The Tempest
by Hestia Hesperus
Summary: Many have heard of what happened to the Potters' on the 31 Oct, 1981...but not many are familiar with the Grangers' tale of what went on, for not many know that they were in Godric's Hollow when it happened...and the evil they encountered...
1. Prologue

"_The hour's now come; the very minute bids thee ope thine ear; obey and be attentive."_

_----Prospero, Act I, Scene II, _**The Tempest**

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_**THE TEMPEST**_

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**_

_**--- Prologue ---**_

" '_**S**ir, I invite your highness and your train to my poor cell, where you shall take your rest for this one night; which, part of It, I'll waste, with such discourse as I, not doubt, shall make it go quick away. The story of my life and the particular accidents gone by since I came to this isle: and in the morn I'll bring you to your ship and so to Naples, where I have hope to see the nuptial of these our dear-beloved solemnized. And thence retire me to my Milan, where every third thought shall be my grave----'" _

"Daddy?" said a little voice from the crook of his elbow.

David Granger set down his book for the seventh time and looked at his daughter. "Yes, Neenie?"

Hermione Jane Granger was only two years old, yet she had the mind and speaking capacity of a four-year-old girl. At six months she had started crawling, at eight she had uttered her first word, and at eight and a half, she had taken her first step. Now, just 25 months old, she had progressed past repeating words and moved on to asking her own questions, which happened one hundred times each day.

She was pointing to a picture on the page opposite what David was reading aloud to her. "Wha's that?"

David studied the picture. "Well, this man right here is Prospero, the wise man, and the girl is Miranda, his daughter, and her soon-to-be husband, Ferdinand. The King has a beard, the evil slave Caliban is lurking in the shadows, and the good spirit Ariel carries his beautiful harp."

Hermione looked at the picture, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration, her little mouth puckered up as she traced her finger over the people shown on the page. When she was done, a full minute later, she looked up at her father and gave him a serious nod.

"Keep weading," she said, smiling softly as she nestled into his arm again.

On the windowsill of the small room, littered with books and toys and dolls, a candle flickered against the darkened panes. A crib sat in one corner, a dresser and a wardrobe in others, and bookshelves and toy-boxes lined the walls.

The room of Hermione Jane Granger, aged two, was furnished in deep velvet curtains and blankets, brown floorboards and furnishings, and walls with the softest red tinge. Hung around the walls of her room were the few nursery rhymes and finger paintings, right alongside such famous pictures as "Starry, Starry Night", by Vincent van Gogh, and various detailed maps of Somerset, the Bristol Channel, London, and Britain.

And in the corner of the small alcove next to the curtained window overlooking the very small backyard and garden they owned, David sat in the rocking chair and rocked his daughter, reading her a bedtime story like he did every night.

So David read on, slowly and steadily, as sleep crept upon his little one, while underneath the same roof, a woman stood in the kitchen, sweeping the last of dinner's crumbs into her hand.

Cordelia Granger softly hummed an unknown tune as she washed her hands in the sink, and by the time she was drying them, a few lines from her song could be heard:

"_Come unto the yellow sands._

_And then take hands:_

_Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd._

_(The wild waves whist)"_

She turned off the light and glided into the living room, fingering the softness of her belly.

Tomorrow her husband, daughter, father-in-law, and herself were all going to spend the day sailing…she would tell him then. It would be a day he'd never forget…

* * *

In that very same hour, six miles away from the Grangers' house, lay a small seaside cottage on the open sand underneath the stars. 

Its lone occupant, a captain of sixty years, lay on his dingy bed in sopping wet clothes with a bottle of fiery whisky in one hand and his old, bare-threaded socks in the other.

In a small pile near the door all of his other socks lay ---- dirty, wadded up, and starting to stink.

And all of them had holes in them.

He smiled sadly. _Looks like my socks are running low again_.

One could never have too many socks.

But his smile slid off of his face when he thought about the reason he knew he'd never get them. However many times he refused his son's money, he certainly did need it. Of course, he only admitted this to his own soul…and those of his three otters, whom he loved more than life itself.

He glanced over at them, lying together in his half-filled salt-water bathtub. One of them opened her eyes and looked at him for a single moment before she slipped over the edge and crawled to him. She laid her head on his chest and gazed adoringly at him with her black eyes. The old captain chuckled and reached out to scratch her chin.

"Aye, Iris, dear…I'm not the only one awake at this hour," he growled quietly in a mostly unused voice. The otter, Iris, closed her eyes contentedly in answer.

Yep…more than life itself.

* * *

Meanwhile, far away in the night, a black-haired man was putting on the same façade as the captain. In his small apartment he was accompanied by a girl he met in the pub, but while this daredevil was far from lonely as he lay in bed with this beautiful stranger, he felt like the emptiest man in the world. He needed what he had lost years ago…what he had thrown away. 

And what was, also, clear across the country.

_What I need_, he concluded…_is my brother._

_

* * *

_

Houses away in that very same city called London, on a doorstep under the eaves, stood a young man, barely a boy, but old in what he had seen and witnessed. Though he was just past twenty, he was in some ways much more mature than the daredevil.

He stood, hugging his sister good-bye in the dead of night, thoughts running through his mind like the water in the gutters. He never knew when he would see his sister again---if he would _ever_ see her again, at all. But tales of their seekers drew nearer, and if these two stayed together, it would only give those murderers a better chance to find them.

The young man had already secured a job with an old bloke in Bridgewater Bay, but what of his sister? He couldn't guarantee her safety…

Would he ever see her again?

He hugged her fiercely and wondered…how long would they have to keep living in secret? How long until they could finally stop running?

* * *

Far off to sea on a small island off the West Coast of England, just outside a small village, two different couples were wondering just the same thing. The first couple, a young husband and his wife, got into bed after a very trying day, in a house that didn't exist. They had just tucked their small, black-haired son into his crib…just like his father, the boy began snoring lightly as soon as he hit the pillow. 

The second couple, a widowed man and his single sister, sat on their couch watching an old British comedy on the telly and laughing at an old blighter's antics.

A nightly routine.

Their own grief and sorrow trapped both couples, though they lived in two different houses and in two different lifestyles. How long would they have to live like this? How much further along this dark and dangerous road must they travel?

With a sigh, the brother and sister finally turned off their television and retired to their own beds. Though they didn't know it, this long, drawn-out comedy of errors would have one final victory, and it would test their very souls.

And, though the married couple didn't know it, the end of their hiding in secret was at hand. But their final way out would bring about more chaos, and yet more peace, than they could ever have imagined.

The only question is, if they had known what lay ahead, would they have been able to endure it?

They fell asleep, holding each other and dreaming about their son and his future.

Yes.

* * *

" '…_I long to hear the story of your life, which must take the ear strangely,' _said the King. 

" '_I'll deliver all;' _Prospero swore, "_And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, and sail so expeditious, that shall catch your royal fleet afar off…'" _

David read the last of his sentence very quietly and trailed off, noticing that he had done his work. Very quietly, he tucked the book into the crook of his arm and lifted his sleeping child, laying her in her crib. He smoothed her curls away from her face and drew the covers up under her chin.

Softly, he shelved the book that told the tale of the mighty gale that brought so many people together: some to repentance and others to their deaths…some to marriage and others into captivity. Yet throughout the tale, goodness prevailed and wickedness was brought to justice…

If only life were like that.

Underneath the star-studded sky, while thousands of people were going on with their daily (and nightly) businesses, these nine individuals were pondering their lives. Not even knowing that they were questioning the very same thing:

What would tomorrow bring?

* * *

_**Author's Note: **And so begins a provocative, new tale of the Granger family. One, I pride myself in saying that has never been done before. Yes, you might notice the date in which this starts. Yes, you might have an idea of what is about to happen...but the depths of the enormity that this has unearthed has yet to expound its importance upon you._

_For those of you don't know me, I am the witch, Hestia Hesperus. I usually update weekly, lest I am on vacation, or otherwise am incapable of holding a quill in my hand. My beta is the beautiful Miss Whydoyouneedtoknow. If you would like to visit her numerous works, she can be found in my Favorites page, and if you'd like to enter into her spacious website domain, just click on the Homepage button on her profile. I am quite sure you'll find it to the best of your liking. _

_Just so that you know, this idea was inspired by William Shakespeare's famous play, The Tempest. If you look closely between the two, you'll find very many similarities.This is also based on numerous things that JK Rowling has said in her website...such as the first things she's written for Harry Potter, saying that:_

"The very, very earliest drafts of the first chapter of 'Philosopher's Stone' have the Potters living on a remote island, Hermione's family living on the mainland, her father spotting something that resembles an explosion out at sea and sailing out in a storm to find their bodies in the ruins of their house."

_----plus, a very many other things have made me come to the realization that this might not be too bad an idea after all. _

**The Tempest**_ takes place in the canon books, I hope you'll understand. It just shows things from the Grangers' point-of-view, such as, where they were the very hour Voldemort met his downfall and the Potters' met their death. Not many people know that the Grangers' were right on that very island when it happened. Not many people know, in fact, that they had met thePotters' that very day. And even fewer people know that it was that very night when the Grangers' encountered something far worse than they had ever dreamed of...or ever could have imagined._

_...And it is this very tale where it all begins...on a dark, dark night...in a dark, dark room...with a dark, dark purpose..._


	2. Number Sixteen, Prosper Street

_**Disclaimer: **Sorry to say that I disclaim. Everything Shakespearean, Rowlingean, HP Lexiconean, Whydoyouneedtoknowean...etc., etc._

_But, other than that, we're all good! __**

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** _

**Miranda:** "Alack! What trouble was I then to you!"

_**Prospero:** "O! a cherubim thou wast, that did preserve me!_

_Thou didst smile, infused with a fortitude from heaven…"_

_----Act I, Scene II,_** The Tempest**

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_**THE TEMPEST**_

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_---**Number Sixteen, Prosper Street **---_

**_W_**hen Hermione Jane Granger woke up on the morning of 31st October, she didn't cry. There really was no need to, after all. Her nappy was wet, of course, but her mum and dad would change it when she showed them.

She lay in bed, her thumb in her mouth, and stared at the sunshine coming in through the windows. A couple of cars drove past making an awful racket, but she didn't mind it, really.

Her small family lived in a pretty house called Number Sixteen, Prosper Street, and it was on one of the busiest roads in town. Perhaps it was because her mum and dad both owned a dental practice that was down the block.

Hermione didn't really know much about it, of course ---- she was only two, after all ----but one thing she did know was that when mum and dad were gone, she had to go to her day care, and they were gone an awful lot.

That was another reason why she didn't cry. It was because today was Saturday, and all week she and her parents had gone around trumpeting the fact that it was only a couple of days until Saturday.

Because today, Mummy and Daddy didn't have to go to work…today they were going boating, and she would have them all to herself.

She smiled, showing her small pearly whites, and sat up, threw off her comfy red blankie and scattered her stuffed animals. Her brown curls were wild and tussled from being slept on, and she had small wrinkles on her face and a wet spot on her pillow.

She had a job to do.

David and Cordelia had put Hermione's room in the back portion of the house, so that when she took naps, the telly or the vacuum wouldn't disturb her, or any visitors coming to call. Down the hall and to the right was her parents' room, where they were undoubtedly sleeping. That was her destination.

She crawled over to the far end of the crib where the lever was. If she stood on her big stuffed lion that her mother had named Leopardis, she could reach it. She strained to touch it…a bit more…there!

The crib's rail slid down a foot, which was just enough for her to climb over the edge and dangle down until her bare feet touched the cold ground. Looking around her small room with its lovable decorations and standing on the blue rug, she decided to toddle over to the dresser.

Her nappy was sagging underneath her yellow cotton pajamas. She opened a drawer and rummaged around until she found her white undies and the baby wipes. _Ah-ha!_ With those in hand, she reached up to turn the doorknob, tore down the hall---past the front door and the living room and the kitchen---and approached her parents' room.

The door stood in the shadows, closed and daunting. Her eyes wide and big and very brown, she transferred her small garment into the other hand and pushed the door gently open.

The curtains were drawn and the room was very dark, but the little girl could make out her mum and dad's big bed in the middle, and two big forms underneath the covers.

She smiled.

Dropping her things, she tried to climb up, but soon found it was much too high. So she grabbed onto her daddy's foot, which was sticking out over the edge, and scrambled over, shimming up onto his leg.

He hadn't moved a muscle. Hermione held her breath as she climbed in between them and settled underneath the covers. Then she stuck her frozen feet onto her mother's bare leg.

At once, her mother's eyes snapped open and Cordelia sat up, gasping.

"Whazzamatter?" David Granger muttered, turning over and falling onto his daughter.

Hermione giggled and said in a muffled voice, "Daddy! I's _me_! You're on me!"

David opened his eyes as well and quickly rolled off her just as Cordelia shrank back down onto her pillow, groaning. "Neenie, babe, your feet are like ice! Why don't you have your socks on?" she muttered, putting an arm around her small child.

"I'll w-w-warm them," David yawned. He reached underneath the blanket to cup Neenie's feet in his warm hands and hug them to his chest. Both his and Cordelia's eyes drooped again, and Hermione was kind enough to leave them alone until two minutes later, when they had almost fallen asleep again.

She snuggled deeper into her father's arms and brought her face right next to his ear. "Daddy! Wakey, wakey! It's Satterdy!" she whispered very loud, her little mouth inside of his ear.

David jumped again and looked at his clock.

Six o'clock, it read.

_By George, _he moaned inwardly, _Cordelia ought to tell her not to wake us up on Saturdays._

As little Neenie got up and started jumping around on the bed, shouting "Is Satterdy! Is Satterdy!" Cordelia snuggled up close to her husband, her head on his shoulder and his arm over her back.

"David?" she whispered, Neenie's shouts waking the world.

"Hmm?" he answered comfortably.

She sighed in content and murmured, "We need to buy her a real bed…she gets out of that crib way too easily."

David chuckled softly. Hermione, the apple of his eye, had danced clear into the bathroom adjoining their room, but what she was exactly doing, he had absolutely no idea. That girl was completely unpredictable. She did things no other two-year-olds in their right minds would, or could, do. But that was why he loved her.

"Yes, my Delia, darling," he replied, yawning. His eyes peeked open for a moment to find his wife snuggled next to him, mouth open.

Apparently she had gone back to sleep.

* * *

Hermione, meanwhile, had bounced from her parents' room to the bathroom after waking them up. She then proceeded to take off her own nappy, wipe her own bum, and pull on her own little white knickers. She was quite pleased with herself, not knowing that you weren't supposed to try flushing your cloth diaper down the toilet bowl when you were through with it. 

It took a full half-hour for Drs. David and Cordelia Granger to actually throw the covers off of them. Then, since they had each other, it took yet another twenty minutes to get up out of bed and make their way into the bathroom. There, a smart little surprise awaited them.

Thus began a normal harrowing Saturday morning at the Granger household.

"David, hon?" Cordelia walked into the bathroom ten minutes later where her husband was brushing his teeth. She'd just come in from turning cartoons on for Neenie in the living room.

He was bent over the sink in his flannel blue pants and white undershirt. His coarse brown hair fell over into his adorable brown eyes…the key to making Cordelia's heart melt.

"Mmmfff?" he mumbled in answer and spat in the sink.

"Were you, by any chance, wondering why the toilet was flooded when we woke up?" she asked him sweetly.

David looked at her, knowing something was up.

"Yyesss…why?" he said slowly.

Cordelia cocked her head and her wild, golden curls fell down her shoulders. "Because our daughter _evidently _tried to flush her wet nappy down it!" she answered.

David cracked a smile. Cordelia frowned. "It's not funny!" she hissed. "She just confessed to me and when I asked her why, do you know what she said?"

David's smile flew clean off of his face when he saw her advancing on him. "Er…no, actually," he replied. It was the wrong thing to say.

"_Because you showed her how!" _Cordelia snapped, "_Honestly_, David, do you really not know how to change a nappy? She's two years old! You've done it before, I've seen you! What would tempt you to try flushing it down the _toilet_? It is a _cloth diaper_---it is not disposable! Maybe in twenty years they'll be inventing them and you can flush _seven_ at a time, but David?"

He smiled weakly, leaning back onto the counter. "What?"

She leaned forward. "_This is not that time_!"Turning tail, she marched out of the bathroom.

David followed her. When his wife got mad, she got furious, and it was better to calm her before she got too upset, which happened often. "Honey?" he asked.

Cordelia ignored him as she started changing out of her nightclothes. Her husband sat down on the bed, watching her. When he realized she wasn't going to answer, he smiled and started trying to clear his name.

"In all fairness," he began. "You were at the store and I was watching her and the garbage men had just gotten our trash and, you see, her nappy had one _incredibly_ putrid smell---"

Cordelia crossed her arms and glared at him.

"----And I knew that if I just left it out on the washer, the whole house would stink…so I did the only sensible thing. I wadded it up until it was no bigger than a tennis ball and I flushed it. It went down without any trouble!" he added hastily.

She still remained unconvinced. David went to her and put his arms around her waist. "Cordelia?" he said softly.

She looked up at him, and he could swear he saw the corners of her mouth turn up, if only just the tiniest bit. "Yes, David?" she answered as he gazed into her wonderful blue eyes.

"I love you," he said before drawing her into a kiss.

When they broke up he said, "_Now_ do you forgive me?"

Her eyes flew up. "You think that just because you can walk in here and sweep me off my feet that I will forgive you?"

David smiled and kissed her again. "Why, of course!"

His wife tried to hide her grin against his undershirt. When she emerged, it was gone. "I got a letter from Mother yesterday," she said.

He jerked his head up. "_What?"_

Cordelia smiled. "Yes…I know. It held the usual…she wants us to fly out to France to come and see her; she wants to make sure we're raising Neenie up correctly; she wants to let me know that she still thinks you're a fool and----"

He let out a short bark of laughter. "That woman never changes, does she?"

Cordelia smiled dryly. "Well, I did grow up with her, so I should know! She only changes her opinion about things if it's for her benefit. She's never liked you, _but_ she told me to tell you that 'she is learning to accept the poor decisions of her misguided daughter'!"

"Bloody hell," he muttered, snorting derisively. "I guess those blokes knew what they were talking about when they say that when you marry a woman, you marry your mother-in-law."

"Is it that obvious?" she asked him. "So...if you knew when we married what exactly it was you were getting into, would you still have done it?"

He shook his head wryly. "I doubt it…"

Her mouth fell open, and she smacked him behind the head. "Wrong answer!"

Laughing, he fell backwards onto the bed. _Would I still have done it…_he thought, _what a crazy question! Her mother, Miranda Snowe, is the most insane woman on the planet, but Cordelia makes up for it tenfold. _

Cordelia headed over to their dresser and looked at him in the mirror. "You know, I haven't seen her in over a year. Maybe it _is_ time to start thinking about it."

He snorted. "Cordelia, if that woman really wants to meet our child, you know very well she will do just that, and nothing will stand in her way. Why must _we_ be the ones to put all our money, time, and energy into her every whim when she is fully capable of doing that herself? Hermione isn't even her only grandchild! Why is she being so possessive?"

His wife sighed and put down her hairbrush. She walked around the bed and stood behind him, massaging his shoulders. "Because she _is _my mother, David. And I know that Neenie isn't her only grandchild, technically, but do you honestly think she's going to recognize Helena as her daughter again after she's already disinherited her? To her, I'm the only one she has now, and Neenie is her last chance at living again," she said softly. David groaned and put his head in his hands.

"But where would we find the time?" he asked, exasperated. "If we really want to expand on the practice, we have to bring in more clients. We can't afford spending everything we've saved up for it! _I _say you write her back and tell her that if she wants to see her granddaughter, she's got to make allowances for it. We all know that _she's_ not going to be running out of francs anytime soon! The woman's simply bathing in them!"

Cordelia glared at him. "That's not funny, David. You think I _chose_ to grow up with the parents I had? That I wanted to be thrust into every snob school in Britain? Just because my parentscould afford it?"

Immediately, a wave of shame washed over him. This had been an issue before when they were engaged. Cordelia had been furious because he thought that he didn't deserve her…just because she came from a 'higher class'."Delia, darling, I'm sorry…I didn't mean it like that, you know I didn't. The difference between you and your mother is that she uses her wealth as an excuse to get what she wants. You don't. Far from it, in fact!"

Cordelia stared up at him, the tiniest hint of a smile in her eyes. "And what exactly _do _I do to get what I want, eh?"

David smiled, "Oh, I find that you can be…_very _persuasive!"

She grinned satisfactorily as they kissed yet again. There was a shriek of laughter from the other room. For a two-year-old, Hermione grasped the concept of early Saturday morning cartoons very quickly.

"You know, your father obviously thought she was a catch when they married, so I suppose she isn't all bad," David said in an effort to cheer her up.

Cordelia broke away from him. "Seeing as how this is my _mother_ you're talking about, should I count that as a compliment, or an insult?" she asked dryly.

"Definitely a compliment," David settled back onto his pillows while Cordelia went to check on Neenie. When she came back, she found her husband had a very familiar glint in his eye. She was just about to ask him why when one burst of dramatic lament answered her question for her.

"_'Admir'd Miranda!'" _David said fervently. "_'Indeed the top of admiration, worth what's dearest to the world!'"_

Cordelia laughed at him, recognizing the play he was quoting. This was the same stanza he pulled on her frequently, just because her mother shared the same name as the beloved heroine that was under discussion in this quotation. David stood and went to her, looking deeply into her blue eyes.

_"'Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard; and many a time the harmony of their tongues hath into bondage brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues have I lik'd several men: never any with so full soul, but some defect in her did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed; and put it to the foil: but you…" _

He reached over and grabbed her around the waist. She laughed and tried to squirm away. _"'O you, so perfect and so peerless, are created of every creatures best!'" _

Finally, he gave her a big, sloppy kiss and let go of her.

She shoved him playfully. "You _are _a devil!"

"Only when I'm with you, dear!" he grinned wolfishly.

She crossed the room to open the blinds and the curtains. Immediately, the brightest sunlight streamed into the room. David winced.

"Oh, and David?"

"Yes, dear?"

"The answer is 'no'. I don't forgive you. After that stunt you've just pulled, it's going to take a lot more than that!" She smiled smugly.

This time, it was his turn to protest. "But Cor_delia!_" he whined. "You can't just _not _forgive me! We live together, we sleep together, we work together…why, we even have to share that right little devil in there, as well!"

As if right on cue, Hermione gave a startled squeak in the other room.

"Believe me when I say, David, that _women have ways!" _Cordelia looked pointedly over at him.

He shook his head and walked back into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "Well, you know, it was at least six months ago whenthat whole nappy thinghappened. How can she have remembered that?"

Cordelia sighed as she picked up her brush and tried taming her mess of curls. "You'd be surprised," she muttered.

"What's she doing now, anyway?"

"Oh, I told her to go check on her kitten's food and water so we could change. She can actually lift his food bag, now----"

She suddenly broke off when they heard a shriek, then a loud crash, followed by a very dismayed cry of "_Puck!_" coming from the kitchen.

Cordelia and David took one glance at each other before they both tore out of the room and down the hall. When they reached the kitchen, a peculiar sight met their eyes.

A sopping wet Hermione sat in the middle of the floor covered in soggy kitten food. Scattered around her were the entire contents of the cat food bag. A little orange kitten was staring at Neenie hungrily from his perch on an over-turned chair.

"_Hermione_!" David moaned. Cordelia bit back a smile.

Hermione looked up at her parents, just as the kitten pounced onto her little shoulder and started eating some kitten bits out of her hair.

"Oops," she said.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Ah...children, children! How we all love them! And I know this chapter might not have answered what you wanted it to, but just be patient! You'll know in time. _

_Next chapter will be called "Revenge of the Mountain Troll" (ooh! scary title, that one! wonder what'll happen!) and will be coming to you in more than a week; it depends on when I get back from my trip. One certain way to send me off to my sister's wedding in good wishes is, you guessed it, to review! So click that tempting button. You know you want to!_

_Cheers! And thanks for Anne for posting this._

_**Beta's Note: **You're quite welcome, as always, Hestia. Hope everyone else likes it as much as I did!_


	3. Revenge of the Mountain Troll

"_Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd without grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise to bate me a full year."_

_----Ariel, Act I, Scene II, _**The Tempest**

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_**THE TEMPEST**_

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**_--- Revenge of the Mountain Troll ---_**

**_I_**t took David the better part of an hour to sweep the mess up, mop the floor, and then piece the kitchen chair back together again. Meanwhile, Cordelia was bathing Hermione for her second time in two days. She scrubbed hard to try and get the soggy bits out of her daughter's wild curls while Neenie played with her doll in the water and sang lustily.

All in all, it wasn't exactly what you would call the perfect start to a perfect day.

Cordelia sat a thoroughly washed Neenie at the table in her booster seat next to David. He turned the page in his newspaper and started to tell his wife all about the strange sightings in London of men who wore masks and hooded cloaks. According to the paper, he said, there were a couple of witnesses who would spot these intruders before or after a murder was committed. Most believed they belonged to some weird cult that killed people just for the fun of it.

Cordelia sighed as she went about making poached eggs. "You know," she told David, "people today will believe the oddest things just for a laugh. They take these 'strange men in cloaks' and concoct the woolliest story just because they're different. So what if they follow murderers? Perhaps they're spies trying to catch the real culprit…that's no reason to blame them for not acting like normal people."

David looked at her. "You think these men are innocent, then?"

Neenie giggled as she ate the cereal bits in her bowl. Using her spoon, she managed to flick more at her Daddy than in her mouth. Cordelia crossed over to show her how to use her spoon correctly.

"No, I'm just saying that I think people judge too quickly. They shouldn't be making assumptions in the newspaper, should they, if it is most likely false! It just ruins the person's reputation for something they weren't even responsible for," she answered truthfully. "Here's your breakfast, David."

She handed him a plate of perfectly cooked poached eggs, just how he liked it, with a salad on the side and plenty of nicely mixed spices.

Cordelia was the best cook in their family; David had always known that. Her father was the famous chef, Clement Snowe, and it had always been the dream of her mother's for Cordelia to follow along his lines. Thus it was that Cordelia was thrust into every culinary school in London. Finally, though, Cordelia put her foot down and told her mother that she loved to cook, but would rather become a dentist, instead; and that was how the rich Jane Cordelia Snowe ended up in the Bristol School of Dentistry and met her future husband.

David watched his wife walk around the kitchen, making eggs Benedict for herself. She truly was a spectacular woman. He could always remember when he looked at her why he fell in love with her in the first place. She was beautiful, with long, wild golden hair and summer blue eyes on her pretty, pale face. She had a tall, willowy form and carried herself with a kind of grace David saw only a chosen few could match. But that wasn't the reason he fell in love with her…

When he first saw her as they sat down at their first class in Bristol, what astonished him was her knowledge and her wit. She had known every single answer the teacher threw at her, and ones no other person besides the professionals knew. She worked harder and longer than anyone in classes and seemed to be the only one who really loved being there and learning every day. It took David three years to actually catch up with her in studies.

Cordelia took the pan off the fire and whisked the eggs around. It wasn't until she was mixing the green pepper in when she caught her husband staring at her. She was supposed to be making all of the necessary preparations for their boating trip, which would take place that afternoon, but while she was trying to balance breakfast and lunch, David had other plans for her.

He glanced out of the window in high spirits. Outside, there were nice, billowy clouds and the finest breeze a sailor could ask for. Yet…the weather seemed almost _too_ perfect for this nice October day, really----

_Oh, no, you don't, mate! You know the consequences of jinxing the weather…don't want the gods to get angry and send a storm down upon us, now!_

He fervently kissed his fingers and sent off his well-meaning luck to the unseen deities above.

_The sea_! He grinned. _I love the sea!_

He sat up, tucking the last of his breakfast into his belly, and gave his daughter a wide smile, then bent over and kissed Neenie on her wild, curly head. She sat dangling a Cheerio over her mouth, then dropping it and laughing at the fact that it had completely missed her mouth and bounced onto her lap.

That was how David liked her to be.

He started singing a rather blustery tune he had found in a music book once, forgetting all about the strange men in cloaks that had nothing whatsoever to do with his family, thank goodness. Carrying his plate to the sink where Cordelia stood, rinsing off a pan furiously with her hands, he broke off singing to kiss her on the cheek and nuzzle her neck.

She laughed and wriggled away from him, hands full of soapsuds. Of course, he should have known when he came at her again that she would turn the still-running water nozzle at him, soaking him in the chest.

As the water sprayed his vest, David stood still in shock. Hermione had abandoned her game and stared from her mum to her dad, her mouth open. Cordelia, likewise, stared at him with a surprised look on her face, her eyes big, and the water still spraying straight out at him.

Finally, he had the sense to reach over and turn the water off. Turning to his wife, he glared daggers at her, "Yer gonna get it, woman!"

Cordelia couldn't keep it in any longer. She burst into laughter that broke off into a scream and a scramble as David launched himself at her. Shrieking, she turned tail and ran, David after her.

Cordelia tore down the hall, laughing. David was roaring with a big wet stain covering his chest and a glint in his eye. Hermione followed them both with a shrill cry of "Run Mummy! Don't let 'im get you!" until Cordelia barricaded herself in Neenie's room.

David had to swerve to avoid the door shutting in his face. He heard Hermione's socked feet slide out from under her at his abrupt stop. He smiled, an idea forming in his head.

"You may win this time, Delia, darling, but _I_ still have your daughter captive!" David growled in a deep voice. He turned slowly around until he faced his astonished Neenie, who still sat on her bum on the hard floor. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she managed one long shriek before he pounced on her.

"_Mummy_!" She squirmed underneath him. "Help me! He's got me! He's _tickling_ me!"

To David's surprise, she wiggled out from his tickling grasp and tore down the hall, shrieking at the top of her lungs, her feet skidding on the slippery floor. David gave her one moment's head start before setting off after her, growling, "Here I come, my little queen. I'm gonna get you on All Hallows' Eve!"

As silently, as quietly as he dared, he stopped right outside the dining room. He could hear little ragged breathing and a small rustle behind the curtains.

"So, we are going to be playing hide-and-seek are we, my pretty? I am the giant king of the mountain trolls! Me very, very good at playing seeker when me yummy snack be hiding! I'm gonna get you…_I'm gonna get you_!"

Hiding safely (or so she thought) behind the curtains in the window-seat, Neenie's brown eyes got even bigger at his words. She hugged her covered legs as she saw the gigantic, ugly mountain troll look underneath the table and on the chairs pushed under the tabletop.

He looked everywhere around the room, finally giving up when he didn't spot her on the ceiling fan. Neenie gave a small, compressed giggle that she couldn't hold in any longer.

The mountain troll king was just stepping out of the room when he stopped and listened intently.

Oops.

David marched over to the window, yanked the curtains open and showed his face to his prey, baring his teeth and laughing in pleasure.

Then, with one long sweep of his arm, he snatched up the giggling, screaming girl from her perch and slung her over his shoulder.

And then the ferocious king of the mountain trolls carried his food to his dank and dark lair…

…Never to be seen again.

* * *

Cordelia heard the entire encounter from her place behind her daughter's bedroom door. As she listened to the mountain troll's retreating giant footsteps, she knew it was safe to come out. 

Tiptoeing as softly as her house shoes possibly allowed her to, she walked through the house in search of the troll's dreaded lair.

Then she heard it.

Behind her own bedroom door there were growls and giggles and shrieks and groans. She looked around her for a weapon and found one in a long candlestick. She quietly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open just as a shrill cry emitted from the room.

The wildest scene met her eyes as she gazed in, candlestick held in front of her like a sword. Pillow feathers floated down onto two figures on the bed, one small and one large. The large one was cowering, admitting defeat as Neenie sat on his head and hammered his rear with Cordelia's torn, half-empty pillow. The little girl was giggling madly, apparently ecstatic with her victory…and the antics of her small ginger kitten.

Puck---or Puckle, as he had originally been named---was tearing through the air at the falling feathers, claws out and a mad gleam written in his cat-eyes. Cordelia suddenly knew who the culprit was behind her torn pillow.

She lowered her weapon and smiled. "Well, well, well," she drawled. "It looks as though the ferocious troll has been defeated! By a little girl, no less…he must be getting slower in his old years!" She smiled at her husband impishly. Now was a good time to bait him, while he was pinned underneath his daughter.

She climbed onto the bed and lay down next to him, looking into the brown eyes that were set in a red face from the pressure of some thirty-odd pounds on his head, then continued, "And the hideous mountain troll king's wife knows that he knows it, yet is most unobliged to tell him so…"

Slowly, she crawled right on up until she was three inches from his face.

"…Alas, it has taken its toll on the troll and he has been sedated into staring benignly at his atrocious wife while she kisses him…" She finished in a whisper, then leaned in to kiss her trapped husband.

Neenie stopped badgering them with pillows when she saw that they were kissing. She didn't want to hurt her innocent mother for one thing, and she saw that Mummy had forgiven the troll for being so mean to her. Also, the pillow entrails were now all scattered about them, leaving Neenie with just a dangling pillowcase.

With a last look at her parents who had now deepened the kiss, she climbed off of them and gave a drawn-out sigh of impatience. Her captor ---or captive --- with the wet spot on his vest and the feather-coated body pulled his wife in closer as they embraced, not even breaking apart when the telephone rang in the kitchen.

Hermione perked up. "I get it! I get it!" she said as she lugged her kitten off the bed and stumbled over the forgotten candlestick in her haste to get to the phone first.

When she finally got there she dropped Puck----who was trying to chew the white bits of fluff that were sticking out of his mouth----and dragged a chair to the counter. She climbed onto it and was able to lift the telephone off its hook and push the button on the right like Mummy taught her to do.

She cautiously held it up to her ear, breathing hard from running, and paused.

After a moment, she heard a faint "H-H-Hullo? Is-is anybody there?"

Neenie smiled shyly before drawing out a single word in a soft, breathy voice, "…_Hi_…"

* * *

Far over in Berkshire, along the motorway, lay a small pub called the Barman's Bar. At a payphone in the back, hidden from the pasty owner and the dodgy men who sat at the dusty tables every night, was a tall black-haired man. He was in his mid-thirties, yet looked to be much younger, dressed as he was in stylish Levi's, a silk black shirt that was slightly rumpled, and a leather jacket. 

The man smoothed his thick, wavy hair as he held the phone and waited while it rang. He turned around in the small stall and shifted his weight impatiently, letting out a long breath through puffed cheeks.

Though he kept glancing about him, he hardly noticed the slinky women who kept glancing at him admirably from their perch near the bar. He was a ruggedly handsome man, and he knew it. He had gone out with more girls than seven men combined and he certainly was no stranger to bars. Now, however, he was much more preoccupied with his phone call and his broken destination than with where he was at and the occupants therein.

Will Granger had more important things on his mind.

After the seventh ring, he was about to hang up the phone when he finally heard someone pick up. He straightened, his eyes staring intently at the fading wallpaper. All he could hear on the other end were short gasps.

He licked his lips. "H-H-Hullo? Is-is anybody there?"

A quiet voice on the other end, belonging to a little girl answered him. Suddenly, the man broke into a crooked grin and his bright grey-blue eyes twinkled.

"_Neenie_…" He breathed, "It---it's me, Neenie…it's your Uncle Will."

* * *

David lay on the bed, staring at his gorgeous wife after Hermione raced to answer the telephone. Both were lightly coated in feathers and David thought that Cordelia looked just like an angel. Her wild, bushy curls splayed out from underneath her head, making her look as though she had a halo. 

She stared right back at him. "So, mountain troll," she said, "I was going to ask you before your little episode in the kitchen, just why were you singing?"

He grinned, "Today's Saturday…we're going boating, for one thing. I haven't been out to sea since spring, what with work and all. You know, we've both been so busy at the office…summer usually is the busiest time, after all, with parents scheduling their kids in before school starts. Then autumn, when everyone's getting their teeth done before the holidays start...

"Now…why is it, Delia, darling," he continued, raising his hand to brush the hair out of her eyes and mouth. "Why is it that the most enjoyable times for fishing and going out to sea are the most busiest times of the year at work?"

Cordelia laughed. David always got this puppy-eyed look about him when he was discouraged or sad. He had it now, his brown eyes casting her a pitiful glance.

"Mmmm…I don't know, David," she answered him. "Perhaps it would help to remind you that you are going today, so there is no point in worrying. It'll be a bit chilly, so wear a jacket, and I will make sure Hermione is bundled up as well. Your father has a new boat-hand to help him now, doesn't he? Because, what with his leg and all, I just don't want him to be doing too much…or make you do too many things for him. You're still not over your cold, I could hear you coughing and clearing your throat when you were chasing us----"

"Cordelia," he interrupted her, "this is my father we're talking about---he's not very likely to be passing any kind of _any_ work to me, is he? Blimey, the man won't even let us help him out even the smallest bit…he lives in a cottage with three otters and the place is a pigsty! If you haven't been there lately, I suggest----"

But he was interrupted, as well, by Hermione calling his name. The next second, she appeared at their door with the phone in her hand, while behind her, they saw the long, trailing cord that was stretching tight around the corners of the walls, winding through the house to David and Cordelia's room all the way from the kitchen.

David struggled to get out of bed and grab the phone from her hand before the cord snapped.

"S'for you, Daddy!" she said excitedly. "Itsa Munkle Will!"

David jerked his head up. "_What_?"

Neenie smiled, "Says he wants you an' he says he needs you ta _hepps_ him an' he says he's atta _bar_----"

This time it was Cordelia's turn to sit up.

"_What_ did he say exactly? He said he's at a _what_?" She exclaimed.

David finally reached Hermione, with feather bits sticking to his wet vest. "I'm finding out! Don't worry…"

He took the phone from his daughter's little hand and looked at it strangely before holding it up to his ear and croaking out, "W-Will?"

Though Cordelia wanted to know why Will was calling, she knew that her husband needed some privacy. Grabbing Hermione's hand, she led her away from the room, ducking underneath the phone cord numerous times to get into the living room.

"Mummy?" Neenie asked as Cordelia got some coloring supplies for her. "Who's Munkle Will? Why's he want Daddy? Why does Daddy need to hepp him? Whassa _bar_?"

Cordelia laughed nervously.

A thousand questions were going through her head as well, but they were most likely not going to be answered any time soon…

David hadn't seen or heard from his older brother in two years…the last time they had heard, he was at London working with an acting agency. So, why had he suddenly called his brother? Cordelia thought that they had had a falling-out. Where had he been for the last two years? Was he still in London all this time? And _what_ was he doing calling David in a bar? Was he drunk? Is that why he told his brother's two-year-old daughter where he was?

…_Well, it's not like Neenie knows what a bar is, thank goodness_.

"Honey," Cordelia began as she arranged the supplies around her daughter. She drew Neenie onto her lap and started speaking to her, trusting that her little two-year-old would understand. "Your uncle, Will, is Daddy's older brother. He used to come over all the time and visit Grandfather and us. But a couple of years ago, right after you were born, then Daddy and Uncle Will got into a fight and we haven't seen him since. We don't know why he wants Daddy, or where he is right now, but Daddy will tell us when he's finished talking with him, okay?"

Hermione nodded, looking into her mother's eyes. Somehow, Cordelia could see that her daughter did understand, and it wasn't even ten seconds later when she turned back to her mum.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, Neenie?"

"'F Daddy's on the fellytone, can we still go fissing?" she asked, her brown eyes pleading.

As Cordelia looked into her daughter's eyes, she was strongly reminded of her husband. It astonished her how much Hermione resembled David, really. The shape of her face, her mouth and her nose were Cordelia's, and her hair as well, even though it was a different color. But nevertheless, once you looked into those eyes, you forgot all about Cordelia's part of her features. Hermione had her father's brown eyes, brown hair color, and tanned skin. Cordelia always thought that her daughter had very pleasant tones, thanks to David…she would have hated it if Hermione had been cursed with Cordelia's own pale, French skin.

"_Mummy?_" Hermione asked again when Cordelia didn't answer.

Cordelia started, realizing how long she had been staring at Neenie. "Oh…yes, of course, darling, we will still go. But we aren't going to be leaving until noon, and that's still four hours away. In a bit, you and I are going shopping for food and some more clothes for you to wear for winter, alright?"

"Mm-hmm." Neenie went back to her coloring and Cordelia left to do the laundry.

It wasn't until a half-hour later that David came out of the room and walked slowly into the kitchen. He heaved a deep sigh as he hung up the phone and turned around to find Cordelia and Hermione staring at him from the living room.

"Well," he said, walking into the living room. He sat down next to his wife and all of her piles of clean clothes, and rested his arm behind her body. "That was Will."

Cordelia stared at him. "Gee, I suspected that much!" she said sarcastically, folding the last of the socks.

"We talked for a little while about things-----" he started.

"A _little_ while?" Cordelia interrupted.

"Well, okay, it was more than a little while. But we cleared a lot of things up. Will's not happy with what he did and he seems to really want things to be square between us. We've come to even ends and…to be truthful, we both feel like real idiots about the whole mess. What are you laughing about?" David looked at Cordelia, who was shaking with convulsed chuckles.

She held a pair of clean, rolled-up socks to her mouth to stop the laughter coming out. "N-nothing!" She choked out. "It's just that you are so logical and he's always been so, well, _out there_ and you two had this complete fallout and for a whole_ year_ you weren't talking to each other. Now all of a sudden, he calls out from nowhere, _completely_ out of the blue…and from a _bar,_ no less! All just to make up for what he did to you!"

He stared at her, perplexed, "_And_…?"

She leaned back into his arms and looked into his adorable eyes. "And it was all because he started going out with a girl named Rebecca, whom you had both grown up with; got drunk and made an ass out of himself and disgraced her in public; punched you on the stage in a concert; tried to feed our ten-month-old daughter some brandy; and, lastly, drove your car into a lighthouse. And all in one night! Forgive me from saying, David, but I just find it remarkable that you two failed to converse for an entire year, when he was abysmally drunk when it happened."

David cast her an apologetic look. "Well, yes, we did laugh about that for a bit on the phone. It seems so stupid now that it's over and done. But, anyway, he called to tell me that he was driving over to see Dad and us as well, when his car broke down near Reading. He needs me to go over and pick him up. And then, I was thinking, he could come boating with us over to Bowman's Isle. Him and me are long due for some time together…and he's been avoiding Dad, too. It would be nice to have it be just us again."

Cordelia listened to her husband reminisce about the old days. The days when Will and David acted like the best brothers, when Will wasn't always arguing with his father and brother…the days when it was just the three of the old bachelors together, spending time in each others' company. Will, of course, with a different girl every time, David with his one-and-only love, Cordelia…and John Granger with his wife Olivia. Those were the days before Will and David's mother had died, of course. The days before David and Cordelia had gotten married and John William Granger had been a successful sea captain of many ships and sailors. The days when Will had a secret crush on Rebecca, his little brother's friend, and tried to get to her by going out with every single girl in London.

Those were the old days.

Cordelia spoke up. "It's settled then. You, Dad, Will, and Hermione will go out and have a marvelous time today----along with Dad's new boathand, Hector----fishing and swimming and soliciting in Bowman's Isle, and will come back just after dinner-time and tell me all about it. You will have plenty of time to joke around and be men, just like before, and I trust that you will keep a weather eye on Neenie. Not that you need to, of course, Will hasn't seen her in a year, he was absolutely taken with her before. And your Dad spends his time and energy spoiling her to no ends! I haven't seen Hector yet, but your father has been friends with him since----"

"Wait, wait, wait! You're going too fast, Delia, dear, what are you saying? That you're not coming with us today? But you don't have to do that---we _want_ you to come." He looked at her in perplexity.

She almost laughed at his expression but then decided against it. Taking his rough hand into hers, she said softly, "David, I honestly think that you, Dad, and Will need this day together much more than I need it. You _know_ that I don't even really like fishing anyway, I'd only be there for Neenie, and that's hardly a reason when you are so capable of watching her. I trust you. She _adores_ you and her grandfather and I am positive that she will catch on pretty quick to Will. Please David? I will make it up to you, I swear! Just let me do this for you."

David looked at his wife, at her soft features and her pleading blue eyes. She was right, they did need this day together. He knew that it would be the best thing to repair his and Will's relationship, and also Will's and Dad's as well. Plus, Will hadn't seen his only niece ever since she was a baby, and the last time he held her wasn't exactly under the best circumstances, as Cordelia was kind enough to remind him.

David smiled. "Alright, I'll let you do this, but we _will_ make it up."

He leaned in to kiss her. She put her arms around him, smiling impishly, knowing she had succeeded. "But, of course, sweetheart," she said before softly launching into a series of well-practiced kisses.

"I love it when we agree," David murmured. "And perhaps tomorrow night I can take you out to dinner. You know, that French restaurant in Bristol that you love so much…"

"And…we can…hand Hermione off…to Grandfather…mmm…of course," Cordelia replied in between kisses. "Heaven knows the man wouldn't care in the slightest…"

David rubbed his hand over his wife's back in circles. "And it will be just the two of us…you in that spectacular black dress…and me in my plain old suit and tie…"

Cordelia laughed, the most delightful sound in David's ears. They leaned back, Neenie's pile of day clothes tumbling off of the couch and onto the floor. A couple of piles that lay on the back of the couch fell onto their heads. They kissed each other, undaunted.

On the floor, Neenie looked back down at her drawing. When she heard that Mum wasn't going boating with them, her eyes had filled up with tears. She had so been looking forward to this day, and now it would just be her and Daddy and Grandfather…he wouldn't even have Iris or Ceres or Juno with him. And Will and Hector would come, as well, but she had never seen them before. Mummy said that Neenie had loved Will when she was a baby, but she couldn't remember him now.

Her drawing was filled with blue, for the water, and a brown blob in the middle that was supposed to be a boat. Black stick figures stood in the boat and in the water, and yellow scribbles showed the sun.

Little Hermione twitched her nose and sucked on her lip. Then a small smile began to form on her face and she picked up some green and colored some land on one side of the picture. Eyes concentrating, she drew a lopsided house and three black figures next to the water.

Neither of her parents knew as they sat on the couch what was going on in that brilliant mind of their daughter's, but she acted smarter and somehow different than other two-year-olds. They didn't know that the upcoming events of the day had something new in store for them, nor could they have understood them even if they did. They were getting ready for their adventure without even knowing just how big it was going to be.

And Hermione, sitting on the floor coloring and humming to herself the tune that Daddy had sung in the kitchen, couldn't know that the these three new figures in her drawing were real people. True, they might not look or dress like normal people and they might not even act like normal people…in fact, they really weren't normal at all. But they were people just the same, even though they carried small sticks and wore hooded cloaks.

And no one could have known that the Grangers would be meeting those very people on that very same night.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Well, I'm back! Happy tidings to you all, and I'm sorry this isa few days late; I only got in yesterday. Yes, things are starting to get interesting (that is, if they weren't for you before), and some questions have been answered. Still confused? I don't blame you. Still want more? Well...the more you review, perhaps the faster it will come!_

_Ah, yes, and review replies...I'll answer everything as soon as I'm able to on my profile page. Don't give up on me! I'm working as fast as I can, I promise you..._

_...Of course, vacations are always welcome. AND if you want me to give you a hint on what's coming up for the characters in "Of Mugwumps and Toadstools", just say that you love me in your review, and I'll reveal! _

_Seriously._


	4. Shakespearean Rhapsody

_"My master through his art foresees the danger that these his friends are in;_

_and sends me forth…to keep the living."_

_----Ariel, Act II, Scene I,_** The Tempest_

* * *

_**

**_THE TEMPEST_****_

* * *

_**

**_--- Shakespearean Rhapsody ---_**

**_A_**t five to eleven, two cars pulled out of Number Sixteen, Prosper Street.

Unlike the occupants of certain streets in Surrey (most of whom I shall not name), the neighbors of the Granger family in the portside town of Brownsville-on-Somerset had much more respect for privacy.

Some women were out pruning their flowerbeds, while others washed their cars.Children ran around, climbing trees or playing tricks on unsuspecting beings. The wide, open sky unfurled giant pillows of clouds of the lightest hue around every unseen corner, dotted here and there by small colorful kites. The sun was out but kindly shaded from the residents of this small English village in its swell autumn days while a gusty wind blew the salty breeze in.

It was the perfect day for sailing.

The town of Brownsville was a beautiful, quaint village of bright colors nestling the aqua bay. There were brown and white houses with red shutters and yellow doors; there were bright green patches of land resting next to houses everywhere, with red and orange trees and shrubs beside every window.

The port hugged the water, dozens of boats tied up to their docks, with even more out in open water, and just down the coast, closer to where the bay opened into the sea, a tall lighthouse stood on the beach.

And on that beach was a certain cottage that housed a man by the name of Capt. John William Granger, also known to everyone who knew him----and nearly everyone who didn't, apparently----as Grandfather. Of course, there were a few exceptions who called him Dad, and a few more who just called him John, and there was his darling Neenie who called him by one other name.

Gampa.

But, this said captain had been through a long morning already. At the crack of dawn, he had shuffled around his shack, looking for something to eat. He finally pulled out a jar of sour pickles and, making a mental note in his head to go to the store some time today, he plopped down in his creaky armchair.

Once in a while, he threw a pickle or two in the general direction of his pet otters, who scrambled over each other in their haste to get it.

Once, a small morsel happened to land on Juno's head. Both Ceres and Iris pounced on her, Iris gobbling the pickle up at once while Ceres chewed on Juno's ear for a while before realizing that, while it was delicious, it didn't quite have the flavor the pickle gave.

John Granger laughed as Juno swatted Ceres with her tail before climbing out of the melee and sliding over to him.

After breakfast, Grandfather, Juno, Ceres, and Iris perked their ears up as they heard someone driving up in the sand. Grandfather hurried out with a broad grin, to greet his new boat-hand.

The young man looked somewhat gawky in the car, as though he had never been behind the wheel before. This struck Grandfather as rather odd for he looked to be twenty, at least. Hestepped out of the car, a large brown duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hand extended towards Grandfather, and blue eyes uncertain, as though he still didn't know whether this was the right place to be.

The captain couldn't help but feel that this young man knew things and had seen things before…anyone with half a mind could tell _that_ from looking into this young man's guarded eyes.

Grandfather grinned and shook his hand heartily. "Welcome to Somerset, lad. I trust your trip from London was agreeable? Don't worry, you've got the right place sure enough. It isn't much, I know, but it's home for me. Where are you staying in town?"

The young man smiled, which was pleasing to his features. He was tall and strong with dark brown hair and intense eyes. He wore a simple, white-sleeved shirt, brown trousers and work shoes. Apparently he had large feet…sort of fitting for his big frame.

"I am staying at the Hidendale Inn, sir," the man replied, hitching up his bag. Hector had talked with this man, John Granger, plenty of times on the phone (rather odd, since it didn't even look like he had plumbing in this weathered cottage, let alone a telephone line) and had made good friends with him when they had first met in London.

They had talked long and hard about working on Grandfather's boat, the former captain being somewhat guarded about hiring new hands…seeing as how his last three had run off with his money.

It was at this London warehouse where they had first agreed to meet, and the young man took a break from his work lifting boxes to have a bottle of gin with the captain, who had shown up on a special request. They talked about yachts and ships and what John Granger wanted in a boat-hand. One hour later, a deal was made, the two were shaking hands, and the young man had finally introduced himself.

Hector. Pandaemon Hector.

And so here Hector was, trying out the first two weeks of their agreement.

The young man, in turn, was looking around him at the small cottage in the sand dunes and the dock stretching out into the water with a little dinghy attached at the very end. He had expected more, true, for such a widely known person as Captain John Granger, but he figured John Granger probably just had his top-of-the-line yacht tied in at the harbor in town.

Looking back at the old man, a broad grin split across his face. "Well, then, let's get started!"

* * *

Hermione sang softly in her car seat on the back bench. In her small hands she held a doll with brown hair and a red dress. She held the doll close to her body and stared out the window, looking at the small shops and cars that zoomed by. 

Cordelia watched her in the review mirror. Her daughter seemed quieter than usual and Cordelia couldn't figure out why.

"Is something wrong, Neenie?" she asked in a bright voice as she fiddled with the knobs to the car radio. She had been listening to a whimsical love song, _Once Upon A Midsummer Night, _which was played by a popular Welsh band who had dubbed themselves"Shakespearean Rhapsody". But as she navigated their car into the parking lot of a small, popular clothing store with the words**_QUEEN ANNE'S LACE_**sprawled across the front window, Cordelia was willing to sacrifice the song for her daughter's happiness.

Neenie's gaze shifted from the window to her mother and stared at her. It wasn't until Cordelia got out of the car and moved to unbuckle her daughter that Cordelia found out why.

"Mummy?" Hermione asked, lifting her arms up to be carried. Cordelia picked her up and Neenie wove her legs tightly around her mother's waist, hugging her.

"What is it, darling?"

Cordelia watched, concerned, as Neenie buried her head in Cordelia's neck, and her fingers played with her mother's wild curls. Neenie gave a muffled answer that Cordelia had to lean down to hear.

"Iwanchyoudagowiffus."

Cordelia sighed, relieved. Was this the only reason why she was acting strange? But immediately, she felt a pang go through her heart.

"Oh, Neenie," she said, comforting her daughter. She leaned back onto the car, closed the open door, and brought Neenie's hidden face out of her neck. A dozen passers-by walked around them to get inside, but she didn't care. Hermione needed her.

"Mummy's really sorry, Neenie, but I can't go with you. Not this time. But----" Cordelia emphasized as Neenie's voice rose to her distress, "----_But_, you and me and Daddy will have our own special day tomorrow and we'll have lots and lots of fun, all right? Does that sound like a good idea to you?"

Hermione sighed and studied her mum, her large brown eyes shrewd in concentration. The wheels were turning in that brown curly head of hers, Cordelia could tell.

"Will's it be _on'y_ us?" Neenie asked. Her mother nodded. "An' can _I_ pick where's it we go?" She watched Cordelia hesitate, then nod slowly.

Neenie set back in her mother's arms, content. She bobbed her little head up and down. "Mm-hmm! Sounds good!" she said, imitating her mother.

Satisfied, Cordelia walked into the store with Neenie in her arms. Hermione snuck a look at her mother's face before sticking her thumb into her mouth and sucking happily.

They could go shopping now.

* * *

Meanwhile, at John Granger's house (if you could even call it that), the two men were sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers, plans, and layouts. 

They shoved the small, inconsequential bed and furniture against the walls for more room. But even with the piles of socks Grandfather dumped out the window, and the large tub they both carried out onto the sand, and all of the many dishes and garbage scattered around that Grandfather hastily shoved into a bag, there wasn't that much room.

Hector sat back and rubbed his eyes. It seemed like they had been going on like this for hours. He knew full well that John Granger could do it…but he didn't even want to try. He desperately needed something to eat or drink, but the old man didn't seem to have anything worth digesting in those old cupboards of his.

John was going on about the new yacht he was planning on building, a pencil in hand, making measurements for the fore-and-aft. He didn't seem to have realized that Hector wasn't talking with him anymore; or that Hector was hardly even paying attention to the numbers that were shooting out of John's mouth.

Hector glanced down at his watch. It read 11:20…or, that is, it would have read 11:20 if it had numbers, but what it showed instead were the positions of the sun around the earth. Hector knew what it meant, though, and that was all that mattered, for they had now been working for nearly four-and-a-half hours.

He stood up, interrupting John's rant about sail width. John broke off and looked up at him.

"How about I go into town and get us something to eat and drink?" Hector suggested.

John Granger blinked and looked at the clock on his wall. "_Blast_!" he muttered, "Is it that time already? I've been so occupied I didn't even realize…Yes, by all means, son, go ahead! Hang on, I have my wallet here somewhere…I know I've managed to shag a few pounds the last week…"

"Oh, come off it, John! I'm not a bloody ponce, I can pay," Hector started saying.

John protested. His stubborn pride was getting in the way, yet again. But this time, Hector got the better of him. He gave a boyish grin. "Seriously, John, if you're going to be paying me to sit on my arse for hours at a time, the least I can do is pay _you_ for a chance to get off of it!"

John roared with laughter, startling Iris, who grunted before falling back asleep again.

Hector went on, "I just need to know where the grocery store is. Er…well, where everything is, really."

With a chuckle, John gave him the directions. "It's a brightly colored store on the corner of Gonzalo-and-Main," he finished up. "You can't miss it."

With a sigh of relief, Hector fished around for his jacket. There was a strong breeze outside…it was enough to blow a little girl right off her feet. He opened the door and headed outside to his car. Just then, there was a shout and a bang from inside the shack, shortly followed by a steady string of curses. A second later, John Granger appeared at the door, a broken bucket in his hand.

"And don't forget the fish-and-chips!"

* * *

"Mummy?" 

"Yes, Neenie?"

"Wha's this?" She had been walking next to the buggy, but now she climbed onto the rail and reached down inside to hold a package up to Cordelia.

Cordelia examined some winter dresses for Hermione. They were all completely adorable, how was she to pick? She held up a velvet dress with white lace on the edges.

"Erm, let me see, Neenie. That is…" she looked over at Hermione, "A rain poncho, which is like…a blanket with a hole in it for your head to go through. It's for you to wear in case it rains on your boating trip so that you won't be wet!"

"Bu'…bu' Daddy said it wasn' gonna rain!" Hermione protested, her mind going back to her parents' conversation earlier that morning.

"Well, the weather can be pretty unpredictable…" Cordelia murmured.

It was a while later in which Cordelia had picked out various long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, and a few more dresses for Hermione. She started heading toward the men's section when she suddenly noticed the silence. There were many people there doing their winter shopping, but among the many chattering people, she realized that Neenie wasn't with her.

"Neenie?" she called out.

A few teenaged girls paused from their gossiping to look at her, but nobody answered. Cordelia scoured the aisles and rows, but found no trace of the brown-curled girl among the many people.

Cordelia was starting to worry now. Her eyes caught sight of every child, but none of them were hers. She drove her buggy up another lane and another, calling her daughter's name.

_Where is she? She was right behind me! Did she get lost? Did she wander off?_ A million thoughts flew through her mind. But right before she started to really panic, Cordelia finally caught sight of her daughter's face. It startled her considerably, if only for the reason that Hermione was standing in the exact same aisle Cordelia had started in.

She sighed in relief and ran to her Neenie. "There you are! I thought you were lost! And what _is_ this on your head?"

Hugging her, Cordelia brought her daughter to their buggy and set her down next to it. Hermione looked back at her, confused. "Bu' Mummy, I thoughts _you_ were los'!"

Her mother laughed. "Yes, I suppose Mummy was lost. I just couldn't see you!" Cordelia placed her hand on Neenie's hat-covered head. "_I_ was looking for my Neenie with curls on her head, not _hats_!" It was a little amber hat with a red ribbon around it.

Hermione looked up at her with her brown eyes and laughed at her silly mother. "Mummy, I do! I do have curls! They's hidin', see? Here they are!" She pulled out a lock of her hair from under her cap and tickled her mother's nose with it.

Cordelia smiled, "Why, yes, I see them now! But we need to take your pretty hat off, Neenie."

Hermione pulled her lip down and her chin started to quiver. "Bu'…can't I _have_ it, Mummy? I want it, I do, I weally, _weally_ do! I don' have one _a'tall!_ Not in my wholes _life_! Pwease, pwease, pwease?"

Growing frustrated, Cordelia looked at the price tag. It really wasn't much, after all. "Well…I guess…all right, you can have it----"

Neenie's face lit with joy, and the tear that had started sliding down her cheek evaporated almost instantly. She squealed happily and hugged the hat to her chest, kissing it soundly.

"On one condition!" Cordelia finished. "Honestly, child, _promise_ me that you are going to behave your absolute best today!"

"Oh, yes! Yes, I will! I will for my durling liddle hat!" Hermione cried joyously.

"You aren't going to get in the way when Daddy and Grandfather are handling the boat?"

"Nope! I won' even…even…even…" Neenie searched for the word.

"You won't even try to jump in the water and swim with the fishies like last time?" Cordelia finished for her.

"Nopes!" Hermione giggled.

Cordelia sighed, reminiscing. The last time David and Grandfather went boating, taking Cordelia and Hermione with them, that was exactly what had happened. Hermione had been wearing her small life-jacket, of course, and she had previously succeeded in stuffing all of the 'durling pretty rocks' she found on the shore into it. Then David caught a fish on his line and tried to reel it in. The fish had been so big that David and Grandfather together couldn't even pull it in without snapping the line; so Hermione offered to catch the fish for Daddy, and before anyone knew what she was doing, she plunged right in.

Cordelia just hoped this didn't happen again. "Good!" she said out loud. "Now, we need to finish shopping so you can go sailing. Stay close to the buggy, it's very crowded today --- and put your hat _in_ the buggy so you don't lose it, Neenie!" Cordelia finished hurriedly, stopping her daughter from settling the hat on her head again.

With a frown, Neenie started to argue, but Cordelia headed her off in time. "If you don't put it in the buggy, Hermione, I'm going to have to put it back on the shelf. Choose which. When we leave the store, _then_ you can wear your hat, okay?"

Hermione nodded slowly and kissed her little brown hat once before reaching up and tipping it over the side of the buggy. She started singing softly as her mother started for the men's clothes section again. A little while later----

"Mummy?" Neenie asked.

"Yes, dear," Cordelia examined some vests and sweaters for David. He preferred to wear autumn colors----even when it wasn't autumn----but she did love him in blue.

Hermione held up a very long black belt with her eyes screwed up. "Wha's this?"

Cordelia chuckled, taking the belt away from her and putting it back on the shelf. "It's called a belt, you silly goose! Daddy wears belts, Mummy wears belts…when you get old enough to wear trousers, than you will wear them too!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. The idea obviously didn't seem to please her for she skirted around and gave the hooks with belts a wide berth, running ahead to look at some weird shoes.

She plopped herself onto the ground in front of the shelf and looked at them in awe. The fabric felt real smooth and soft and she rubbed it against her face vigorously. A minute later, she was running back to her mother, hugging a beige loafer to her chest.

"Mummymummymummy!" she cried excitedly.

Cordelia laid three vests into the buggy and looked up to see Neenie tripping over in her haste to bring a large men's shoe to her mother. A few old ladies in the next aisle laughed when she passed them, clucking about how cute she was.

"Mummy, look! Look!" Neenie held up her prize happily. "Is Daddy's! See? Is Daddy's shoesie!"

With a grin, Cordelia took the shoe from her child. Indeed, it was the kind that David wore.She was very proud of Neenie for remembering.

"An' see, Mummy? The shiny butston? Can I have it?" Hermione clapped her hands and squealed. "Can I have it? Can I have the butston? An' Daddy can have his shoesie back!"

Cordelia laughed loudly and ruffled her daughter's curls affectionately. This child was going to be a reasonable one when she grew up, that was for sure!

Hermione looked up at her with hopeful little brown eyes.

_David does need to get new house shoes_, Cordelia thought. After all, he had been able to touch the hardwood floor with his socks for a while now, but it had never really bothered him. Now that it was starting to get colder, however, it was high time for her to get him some more.

"I'll tell you what, Neenie…we'll get these shoes for Daddy, but we can't take the buttons off, you see? So what Mummy is going to do is the _next_ time we go to the store, she'll buy you some very shiny buttons for your very own! Would you like that?" Cordelia picked up the other shoe's match and looked at their sizes.

"Yes! Yes, I woulds! I woulds very much, Mummy!" Neenie giggled at the thought of her very own pretty buttons. Blue ones, she wanted. Shiny blue ones with four itty-bitty holes in it she would like very much. And --- and Mummy could even sew one onto one of her dresses! Then she could wear her buttons and her durling hat _together_! Neenie was very excited at this and decided to ask her mother about it.

"Now all we need are some socks for your grandfather…" Cordelia muttered. She chose a few packages from the shelf, thought on it, and then seized four more.

Neenie looked at the packages and packages of socks piling up in the buggy. "How much feetsies does Gampa have?"

Her mother laughed, "Just two, why?"

"Lotsa socks for on'y two feetsies, methinks…" Hermione said.

Cordelia smiled and shook her head.

"Well, my dear," she said, "One can never have too many socks!"

* * *

When they had the buggy laden with their things and stored the bags into the trunk, Cordelia guided Hermione across the street to a brightly lit grocery store. On the blue roof, Neenie could see several squat pigeons cooing dolefully and flapping to other perches. 

A slight October breeze ruffled her brown hair and jostled the red and orange leaves at the edge of town. There were many sailboats out in the calm waters that Neenie could just barely see from her view near the ground.

She held her mother's hand tightly as they crossed the busy street, her other hand clutching her durling liddle hat.

Watching the sailboats made Hermione think of her grandfather's own boat. And thinking of that reminded her of them going sailing in the afternoon. Thinking of sailing, Hermione stumbled over the curb and would have fallen if Mummy hadn't caught her in time.

A nice young man with dark brown hair and startling eyes opened the door for Cordelia and her daughter before going in himself. She thanked him kindly.

"If you don't watch your feet, Neenie, you're going to fall down." Cordelia chided her daughter, who had stumbled for the third time in a row.

Neenie pulled her head down and stared intently at her feet. Her curls fell over her face and hid her from view. And for the next half-hour, much to Cordelia's chagrin, that is precisely what her daughter did.

* * *

Behind hidden eyes, a lone man sat on a bench outside the department store on the corner of Gonzalo Drive. 

Passersby would sometimes look back at him as they passed. Of course, he couldn't really see anything wrong with what he was wearing: a long tan trench coat over a soft maroon shirt, with blue jeans, socks, and sandals. Not to mention his purple vest and red American cowboy hat. He liked the colors. They suited him. And being the vain man he was, he actually thought that the people were looking at him…not his choice of clothes.

To the public he seemed to be concentrating on the newspaper spread before him, but his every resounding nerve was alert to the sounds and sights around him on the busy street.

Every other minute he glanced up at the grocery store across the road, keeping his eyes trained and waiting for someone to walk out of it. He'd seen the person walk into the store at least a half-hour ago, and they still hadn't come out, as of yet.

It was someone in particular, of course, for if it weren't for this certain 'someone' how else would he have gotten there in those spectacular Muggle clothes, right in the middle of such a primitive, Muggle street?

He scoffed and turned the page of his newspaper. A large woman clutching a lurid pink purse hurried over to collapse on the bench, wiping perspiration from her brow with a wide handkerchief. And she certainly _did_ collapse; if he hadn't kept his body so tense and lifted his buttocks off of the bench an inch or so when she sat down, he was certain he would have pitched headlong into her for her enormous weight.

Silently cursing the overweight women of this generation, he released his tight hold of the newspaper and smoothed it out.

The large woman patted her brown hair, pulled out a stick of gum from that horrid purse of hers and started smacking her lips annoyingly. "My, my, what a hot day, is it not?" she bubbled.

It took a minute for him to realize that she was speaking to him, so irritated he was by her mere presence.

"Depends on who you ask," he muttered.

"Why, you, of course!" She chortled and slapped her thigh. "My dear young man! I just knew that you would agree with me commenting on the weather! Why else would a bloke like you wear that thing and not be hot? Answer me that one!"

He gritted his teeth, giving an impatient sigh. Couldn't they just come out of the grocery store already and save him the humiliation of answering?

Opposite him, people flowed in and out of the glass double-doors, but not his charge. The cars on the road slowed to a stop, the hand-signal on the curb flashed WALK, and even more people strode across the street.

The large woman looked at him, apparently still waiting for him to 'answer her that one'.

He gave in.

"Yes, it's hot, are you satisfied?" He answered irritably.

More people strewed out of the grocery store, scattering themselves upon the sidewalk. Among them was a woman with bushy golden hair, holding two enormous bags in her arms. A little girl with a red dress and a brown hat with its own matching ribbon stood next to her, one finger around her mother's belt loop. She looked around at all of the many people around her that were jostling her and her mother.

One young man came out of the grocery store at the same time they did. Hermione recognized him as the nice man who opened the door for Mummy, and when he caught her staring at him, he didn't scowl like most people did. He grinned at her, a very boyish grin, and managed to tweak one of her curls despite the bags in his own arms.

Suddenly, just as they were about to cross the street with the crowd, a ferocious gust of wind blew over their heads.

Cordelia's hair flew wildly out behind her. She saw an odd-looking man in a cowboy hat on a bench across the street holding a newspaper that the wind tore out of his hands. Even the nice young man beside her who had smiled at Neenie had to clutch his bags tightly as they nearly tumbled out of his grasp.

But Hermione saw none of this. All her own little eyes had room for was her little brown hat flying right off her head and high above the crowd.

"My durling hat!" she cried.

What happened next seemed to take up the space of an hour, yet it was but a minute.

The cloaked man on the bench had felt the breeze and was trying to convince the fat woman that it wasn't as hot as she thought it was, when his newspaper flew out of his hand. "What the----" he snapped.

The large woman screamed, "_The child's going to get hit_!"

His head jerked up and saw the little girl in the red dress tear herself away from her mother. She darted around the crowd and reached the street, her face turned up to a small hat being carried by the wind.

She never saw the car coming. But everyone else did.

Cordelia saw her daughter run away from her and out into the street. Hector watched the cute little girl he'd smiled at dodge around him and follow her hat into the middle of the road, regardless of the oncoming traffic. She ran right out.

"_NEENIE_!" screamed Cordelia.

Everyone turned to look. Hermione stopped running when she heard her mother's voice, and saw a large truck coming straight towards her. She stood stock-still. Every person on the street did.

Everyone, that is, except for Hector. Before he was even aware of himself moving, he had dropped his bags onto the ground, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him towards the little girl. The world stopped revolving, everyone stopped moving, breathless. But the car kept coming.

Hermione let out a piercing shriek. The car was three feet away from her, Hector was two feet, and it was far too late for the driver to brake.

With a whir of color, a screeching of tires, and a swerving of cars, Hector soared and covered the last two feet, snatching Hermione up in his arms.

As though surfacing through a deep reverie, the world burst in motion once more. People rushed to the two still forms that were lying on the ground, Neenie clutched in Hector's arms. Cordelia broke through the crowd that surrounded the two and snatched up her child, sobbing and crying her name. Hermione appeared to be unhurt, but was very frightened and confused.

Burying her face into her mother's blouse, Neenie started crying. In the midst of all of the people shouting and cars honking, she managed to mumble through her tears, "'M alrigh', Mummy….'M alrigh'..."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Things are now starting to get interesting, are they not? Who is this strange man in the red American cowboy hat, I wonder? Who is he looking for? And do you think that Hector has gotten more than he's bargained for, apprenticing for John Granger? _

_The next chapter (just so's you know) will be called "The Magical Malediction". And don't forget to review! Thanks goes out to all of the people who have, so far...and for putting up with me, even though I've been so on and off the past few months! Iknow I'm not the easiest person to follow, but you all love my stories, right?_


	5. The Magical Malediction

"_Thou best know'st what torment I did find thee in: thy groans did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts of angry bears; it was a torment to lay upon the damn'd…"_

_----Prospero, Act I, Scene II,_** The Tempest**

**

* * *

**

**_THE TEMPEST

* * *

_**

_---**The Magical Malediction**---_

At first all he could feel was pain. Blindingly hot pain that reverberated through his leg. It shook every marrow of his bone, every sinew in his muscle, every nerve in his calf.

It was so intense that the moment he regained consciousness, he nearly passed out again.

With all of the strength he could muster, he tried to focus on his other senses. It came hazily at first, a dull pounding in his ears, but then it intensified and all of a sudden, he could hear.

Sounds exploded into him. People were screaming, cars honking, thousands of footsteps, voices everywhere. And…was this asphalt? It wasn't very comfortable…he couldn't remember for the life of him why, inthe bloody bullocks, he would be lying on the street.

It barely registered that he was clutching something soft. There was a shuffling above him, then the sounds of a woman sobbing and crying a name.

_Neenie._

Suddenly, it all came back to him.

Waiting for the light to change, smiling at a little girl, a gust of wind…something running passed him, a woman's deadly scream, a child's shrill shriek. Then he was running faster than he had ever before, soaring through the air, a blaring horn, and falling…falling with the girl clutched tightly to his chest...and then…

Nothing.

Hector felt something being wrenched away from his arms. He tried to stop them…to _move_…but he couldn't. Someone was tearing his pant legs, checking his pulse, screaming for a …what was that word?

He pried his eyes open. There was more exclamation above him. He opened his mouth to speak, and a gasp came out. He nearly vomited…but he needed to know whether…that little girl…but no one seemed to understand that.

"Nee…nee…" he croaked sorely.

"Give him some room! He's trying to speak!" a man yelled above him. Someone knelt down next to him and brought his face closer so Hector could see him.

"What was that you said, son?" the person said. Hector saw a red cowboy hat perched on the man's head.

"The…that girl…is she…" Hector gasped.

"She's just fine, boy, she's with her mother right now…not a scratch on her. See for yourself." The man moved aside so Hector could see the golden-haired woman holding her daughter tightly, whispering soothing words in her ear.

Neenie looked over at the man on the ground. When she saw he was awake, she squirmed in Mummy's arms until she was put down. She ran around the people to the man lying on the ground.

She peered into his face. "…_Hi_…" she whispered shyly.

Hector smiled slowly, though pain was still evident in his eyes. Around him, people were craning to get a look at him; mothers shielded their children's eyes from his leg, bent at a crooked angle, and the blood seeping through his clothes.

Cordelia pushed through them to get to her daughter and her rescuer. Ignoring the strange man with the cowboy hat, she cradled Hector's head in her lap.

"Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you for saving my daughter! Please let me help you…does it hurt anywhere else? Is it just your leg?"

"Yes…" Hector grimaced as he tried to move it. "I'm fine…I…I…just…need a…a…" His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Cordelia slapped his face frantically, shaking his upper torso. "No! No! Stay with me! Stay with me! You _have_ to stay awake! The ambulance is coming, somebody called them, they'll be here any minute! Sir? _Sir_!"

With a gasp, Hector opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He grabbed the man's purple vest and pulled him closer. "Madam…_Madam_…" he gasped.

Cordelia watched him, perplexed. "What is he trying to say? Does he think you're a woman?"

The weird man just looked at Hector strangely. "No…I don't think so…"

He finally was able to force Hector to lie down, but the more Hector thrashed around, the more he moved his leg, which made him scream in pain and twist in agony some more.

Hermione watched her mother and another man try to calm the man who had saved her. More people kept coming out of stores to look. Others just left, carrying on with their business.

She heard his screams in her head. She didn't know why he was hurting…but he was and Mummy was trying to make it better. She wanted to help too.

The large lady on the bench saw the little girl in the crowd watching. "Oh the poor dear," she said and made her way to the child. "Come here, darling…come here, you don't need to see this. Your mummy is helping him, let's leave them to it. Up you go…" She hoisted Neenie onto her hip and moved back to her bench. "Oh, and look, dear, I found your hat for you! Such a pretty hat it is…"

Neenie slowly took the hat into her small hands. She craned her head to look through the many people to see her mother and the nice man who smiled at her, but everyone was in the way…she couldn't see anything.

Cordelia glanced up to see a woman walking away with her child. At first a wave of anger swept over her…a wave of protectiveness. Her daughter nearly died today…and Cordelia didn't want Hermione out of her sight…not after what had just happened.

The man in the cowboy hat beside her fumbled inside his long coat, feeling inside one of its many pockets. On the ground, Hector was slowly ceasing his movements, calming down, though once in a while he would move sporadically.

The man whipped out a small glass bottle with purple liquid in it. "Aha!" he exclaimed. "Here we go…tip his head up so he can swallow…that's the ticket…" He poured the bottle's contents down Hector's throat. Hector coughed and nearly spat it out. Some trickled out of his mouth and onto the pavement.

Cordelia's eyes widened. "What are you _doing_? He's going to choke! Are you a doctor? Who…who _are_ you? That's not even medicine!…it doesn't have a prescription or anything!…_stop_ it!" she shrieked.

But the man didn't heed her. Cordelia watched as the man in the cowboy hat dumped the bottle's entire contents down the poor boy's throat. She knew medicine…she knew what morphine looked like and pain killers. She knew that you should never make a hurt person drink or swallow something before the paramedics showed up. Yet, here was a man who looked like he belonged in a mental facility, and he was starting to pour what looked like Kool-Aid down the throat of the man who saved her daughter's life!

_Who _is _this guy?_

Then, suddenly, adding to her ever-growing amazement, Hector stopped thrashing around. His screaming and twitching died away, leaving him lying settled…almost looking relaxed…on the street.

For one wild moment, Cordelia thought he had died, but no…he was breathing, all right…and opening his eyes…and massaging his throat…

…In fact, a few minutes later he was even conversing with the paramedics who had shown up, explaining all about how much pain he used to be in, but now he couldn't feel a thing! His clothes were mightily bloody, and he certainly couldn't walk yet…every minute or so, he would grimace and moan in pain, hunching over and clutching his leg as it shook convulsively…but after ten seconds it would stop shuddering, and he would straighten up, exhausted, but relieved.

Cordelia stood beside him with Hermione until his convulsions stopped.

The paramedics wanted to take him to the hospital so they could take a look at his leg some more, but he refused. He felt fine…perfectly normal, in fact, if not even better than how he felt before the accident.

They cleaned up the blood from his leg, but were astounded, above all, that minutes before, eye-witnesses had been going on about how his leg had an enormous cut running down the shin and there was blood everywhere. Some thought they could even see the whites of his bone. But when Hector lifted up his leg to show them, there was nothing…not even a scratch or a scar to show that _anything_ had been there.

So they left, shaking their heads about false alarms, and wounds disappearing…just like magic.

* * *

Grandfather looked at the clock on his wall for what seemed like the umpteenth time. 

_Where is that boy? He should have been here by now, its past time to eat!_

_Ach, he's probably off hally-doodling with the girls and cruising the town, by the looks of things._

He straightened up, stretching his creaking back. It just wasn't what it used to be.

_If I didn'ta know better, I'd say he got lost…either that, or he's been clean run over… _

He chuckled and shook his head. _Ha! No idiot would be that stupid!

* * *

_

Along the M-4, two brothers also chuckled with laughter.

"Oh, weren't those the good ol' days…makes me wish I could relive 'em again." Will said, glancing over at his younger brother at the wheel.

"Yeah," David said, smiling. "Though I'm quite certain that Cordelia's glad they're over. She wasn't all too happy when you and Becca threw that cheesecake at our wedding."

Will grinned. "At least we spared her the humility of it! Philly Greengrass wasn't so fortunate…do you know, she came to me later and screamed out that I should pay her back for her 'horribly ruined Cashmere dress'…though, seriously, that thing was horrible even before we ruined it. She was furious! It took me, Dad, and Sebastian to calm her down!"

"What did you do, throw her in the fountain?" David asked sarcastically.

His brother gave a loud bark of laughter. "No! She did that by herself, thank you!"

"So that's why she sent us a bar of soap for a wedding present…" David muttered.

* * *

Cordelia just couldn't stop thanking him. She offered him lunch, a ride to the hospital, even a ride to his house…but he refused everything. 

"No, really, ma'am. I feel perfectly fine and someone's expecting me. I really must go," he said, edging towards his car.

Cordelia just could not believe it. He'd saved her daughter, nearly dying in the process, and now, for some odd reason, he was shrugging it all off.

"Please, Hector, at least let me have your telephone number! It's the least I can do," she pleaded.

Hector walked over to the curb, where he had dropped his grocery bags. They were now severely squashed. He carefully picked them up and threw the bunch of smashed bananas into the nearest can.

"For Hermione?"

Hector sighed and gave a weak chuckle. "All right! I give up----I'm staying at the Hidendale Inn for now. Room Nineteen. Will that do?"

Cordelia reached up and pecked him on the cheek before he got into his car. "Thank you _so_ much, Hector!" she said softly.

Then she left for her own car where an exhausted Hermione was already nearly asleep. And they drove home.

* * *

When they arrived at Number Sixteen, Cordelia saw that her husband and brother-in-law were already there, just getting out of David's car. 

Neenie, awake again, squealed and ran to throw her arms around her daddy. David immediately caught her and tossed her up into the air, making her shriek with laughter.

Will laughed and moved over to squash Cordelia into a hug. He helped bring the groceries in, all the while asking his sister-in-law about what had been going on since he'd been gone. "She looks so big!" he said, following Cordelia through the door. "Last time I saw her she was…"

"Just learning to walk," Cordelia finished for him. "And now she's everywhere…I can hardly keep track of her! She's been running all over the aisles in the store every time we go, and at the park…" she sighed, exasperated.

Will grinned. "Why? What happens at the park?"

Cordelia rummaged around the grocery bags to find the gallon of milk. "Last time we went, she was on such a sugar high that she tried to run up the slides like all of the other bigger kids, and fell off. Of course, that was after she pitched a fit in the sandbox and threw sand at all the other children."

Will chuckled. "It's the terrible twos'! So what did she do this time?"

David walked in with the last of the bags and Neenie seated on his shoulders, fitting her 'durling hat' onto her father's much bigger head. Cordelia looked up and stared David in the eye. "She ran out into the middle of a busy intersection and the man who saved her got hit a car."

Will's jaw dropped, and the grocery bags actually slipped out of David's hands. There was a slight crunch as the carton of eggs inside it landed roughly on the floor.

"She did _WHAT_?"

Cordelia told them. It took a while for David to calm down, as he kept hugging his Neenie over and over, telling her never to do it again. Will looked for a bit like he was about to vomit, but finally gained control of his innards. It was up to Cordelia to clean up the cracked eggs, separating them from the good ones.

"…So, he's staying at the Inn, he told me. At least for now. But…David, I really want to do something for him. Not just everyone would throw themselves in front of a car to save a little girl, but…I just don't know what," Cordelia told her husband.

"Well, what is he doing here in Bridgewater, anyway? Did he say?" David questioned, sitting down at the table with his wife.

"Why…" Cordelia thought. "No…he didn't. Just that he had another engagement and had to leave. All I know is that his car was a rental, he's staying at room nineteen, and he was given some 'miracle medicine' that healed his leg within minutes. It was so odd…"

"'Within minutes'? _How_ badly was he hurt again?" Will asked from behind the refrigerator door.

Cordelia sipped on her cup of tea, absent-mindedly watching Neenie as she stuffed the banana in her mouth, smacking her lips loudly.

"It was horrible…there was blood everywhere…you could see the whites of his bone sticking up through the muscle and skin…" Cordelia recounted softly.

David watched her with anxiety written on his face. "But he's all right now? You said the paramedics showed up, right?"

Cordelia abruptly stood, massaging her forehead, thinking. "Yes…yes, they came, but it was like I said: that odd bloke and me were holding him down while he thrashed around, talking feverishly…I don't think he was in his right mind. Then the man made Hector swallow this…_stuff_…and all of a sudden, Hector was just fine! There was still blood on his clothes and all that, but his leg looked perfectly normal…not a scratch or scar on it! It was just so----" She broke off, searching for the right word.

"Unusual?" Will threw out.

"Alarming?" David asked.

"----_Abnormal,_ I think would be the best word for it. I mean to say that how is that even possible? Have your leg completely savaged one moment, and then have it be perfectly normal the next? Mind you, it did jerk a bit every once in a while, but on the whole…" Cordelia ceased her walking around. Even Neenie, previously occupied with sticking the banana peels on the wall beside her, was watching her every move.

David leaned down to get his daughter's hat, which had fallen to the floor sometime during Cordelia's tale. "I think…" he started saying slowly.

Will waited for David to finish talking, and when he didn't, he decided to finish the sentence for him.

"You think…that you have finally realized you're a snarky git?" he asked in an attempt at a joke.

David, though, appeared not to have heard him. "I think…I've heard that name before…Hector, I mean…but where have I heard it…?"

"I don't know, but you need to help me come up with something to do for him," Cordelia said.

"Mummy! Done, see?" Neenie cried from her booster seat at the table. Cordelia went over to unbuckle her and wash her gooey hands.

"Oh! It's almost time for you to leave," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Will, can you get Neenie changed? She acts the perfect angel, usually, when it comes to her clothes, so she shouldn't be a problem. They're laid out on the rocking chair in the corner."

Will looked at her. "You want me to change her?"

"Of course I do! Isn't that what I just said? She can't very well go fishing in this dress and_ I_ need to finish packing your lunch…" Cordelia trailed off when she saw his face.

Will looked over at David, who was staring at Cordelia.

"Oh, honestly, you two!" She threw her hands in the air, "It's not like I'm asking you to hike the Great Wall of China! She's two years old, it's not that difficult!"

Heaving a sigh, Will muttered under his breath. "You'd be surprised."

David chuckled at his brother.

Walking over to a very surprised Hermione, Will seized her and threw her over his shoulder. "To the bedroom!"

In the end, Will only managed to strip Neenie from her dress before she tore from his grasp and ran around screaming. Apparently she loved the idea of being naked twice in one day; and having a man she couldn't even remember change her clothes was quite exciting.

So that was how a very chagrined Cordelia switched jobs with Will so she could tend to Neenie instead. She snatched up her nude daughter and proceeded to the bedroom while Will smeared mustard on the sandwiches and David laid pickles on them, sticking more than half of them in his mouth rather than on the bread.

At twelve forty-one, Cordelia couldn't find Hermione's other shoe, David and Will got into a fight over which drinks they should put into the cooler ("Don't forget Neenie's orange juice, David!" Cordelia reminded him) and the next-door neighbor rang to see whether "that little girl of yours…you know, the one with the dreadfully long name?" would like to come over and play dolls with her child.

At twelve forty-six, Cordelia was finally able to hang up on the prissy woman and resume the search for the missing shoe. David and Will reconciled their differences in the kitchen, and Neenie came crying to her daddy about her poor stubbed toe.

"Kiss, Daddy? Kiss, Daddy? Kiss, Daddy, _pwease_?" she cried.

It wasn't until twelve fifty-five, after many agonizing minutes of searching in closets and turning the couches upside-down (which Hermione thought was the silliest thing), that they finally found the missing article.

It stumbled upon them quite by accident in the form of an orange kitten, who'd got his head stuck while sniffing inside. Poor little Puck wandered around, crying pitifully, with a little shoe stuck on his head until David released him of this most awful predicament.

At last, he was released from his prison. The orange kitten next found solace in the half-open tuna-fish can lying on the counter, which a certain person had left forgotten in the hustle and bustle of lost clothing.

With a cry of dismay, Cordelia chased Puck away and threw the empty can into the garbage. She glanced one look at the kitchen clock and grabbed her purse in one hand and her fully clothed daughter in the other.

Finally, they were out the door.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **So, now you know what has happened to Hector. And, now, we are this much closer to finding out exactly what is going to happen! _

_Oh, yes...by the way my estimates are going, this will end up being around twenty chapters long, just so's you know. _

_And please, don't forget to review! It helps me update much faster, and write better. Just saying which parts you liked best isn't going to take up _too _much of your time, now, will it? That little purple button is very tempting, I've found out._

_Cheers!_


	6. Old Wives' Tales

"_More to know did never meddle with my thoughts."_

_--- Miranda, Act I, Scene II, _**TheTempest_

* * *

_**

_**THE TEMPEST**_

_**

* * *

**_

--- Old Wives' Tales ---

**_C_**aptain John Granger squinted up at the sun as he coiled the rope aboard _The Olivia. _Luminous white clouds billowed up across the sky, spurred onward by the gusty sea breezes.

He and Hector were at the harbor where his yacht was tied in, and sails dotted the horizon all along the water's edge, everywhere along the Channel. It truly was a fine afternoon for sailing.

_What a day! _he thought. _What a day…_

He glanced over his shoulder to where Hector stood near the tall, skinny mast, unfurling the jaunty sails. It took a lot of strength to keep them down tight while the wind was trying to tear them from his hands before he could thread the rest of the spare rope through them.

"You need help over there, lad?" he called out, grinning. "It looks like you've a mighty foe against you!"

His comrade grinned grimly, straining as he pulled the canvas tighter. "Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing! Do they always get in the way like that?" he asked, nodding his head towards the otter rambling around John's feet.

John Granger looked down to see that Ceres had just pulled down the rope from the hooks he'd twisted it around, and was now gnawing at the frayed ends jumbled all around her. "Hey!" he growled. "You little water demon! You're just a right nuisance, aren't ye?"

He reached down and wrenched the rope out of her mouth, then whacked her on the top of her flat skull when he finished disentangling her --- soft enough so that she barely felt it, but hard enough so that she knew he meant business.

"Now, go over there and play with your sisters like a good lass, and _stay out of the way_!" he finished.

He watched her as she ambled over to the boat's edge, almost contritely, he thought, and climbed clumsily over the railing, her long body plopping down into the harbor water five feet below.

"Oy," Hector said, coming up next to him, but staring in the opposite direction. "Looks like we've got company!"

John Granger swiveled around, then grabbed his back and swore at himself for turning too fast. "Oof! Go down below and get that pack out of the ice box, will ye, lad?"

Hector nodded and hurried below to do the old captain's bidding, while John Granger watched his son and daughter-in-law get out of their car and start up the docks, their small daughter trailing slowly after them…and behind her----

"_Well, I'll be_!" John Granger whispered, as he watched Will sauntering behind his brother's family, hands full with a large cooler.

_Now, isn't he the last bloody wanker I would've expected to pop up today?_

* * *

Neenie stared around at the hustle and bustle of the Brownsville Harbor, wide-eyed. All around her, boats and ships rocked up and down in the choppy waves, all lined up and tied securely at the docks. 

She gasped as screechy birds fluttered from one high perch to another at the small crow's nests on the top of the tall masts, while men walked back and forth, calling out loudly to each other as they popped open bottles of whiskey.

Down near the harbor's opening, she could see a large fishing boat coming in with many men aboard, who were all wrestling with an enormous net filled to the brim with fish.

In fact, she was so overcome by the sight of the many slimy fish, all flopping and thrashing about wildly, that she wasn't looking where she was going and stepped right into a small puddle. She gave a single squeak of alarm as her feet flew out from under her, and she landed right on her little seat.

"Oh, Hermione!" Mummy turned back to look at her sprawled on the dock. "Could you please be more careful? You _need_ to watch where you're going!"

"Yes, Mummy! I's try!"

"Now hurry up! We're almost there!"

But before Neenie could pick herself back up again, a large hand scooped her up from behind and set her on the cooler. She laughed happily as she and the cooler were lifted up into the air again, and looked up at her grinning Munkle Will. He gave her a wink before calling out to Cordelia in a high-pitched voice, "We're coming, Mummy!"

At long last, they reached dock seven and walked all the way to the very end, where Grandfather's new boat stood proud on the bouncy waves. Spotting her grandfather getting off of his boat, Hermione gave a squeal of delight and slid off the cooler, shouting, "Gampa! Gampa!"

"Why, look! It's my little scrub-muffin!" Grandfather roared, picking her up and swinging her high into the air.

David and Will chuckled at the little girl's shrilly happy screams as she was twirled around and around. Cordelia was torn between amusement and worry for the old man, afraid he would get too close to the edge of the dock and topple into the water with Neenie.

But John Granger seemed to forget all about the pain in his back earlier; he had eyes only for Hermione, the apple of his eye. She tottered a bit as he set her back down again, her face red and her hair tousled. When she finally got her bearings back, she crossed her arms and puckered up her face in a frown.

"I's _not _a muffin, Gampa! I's a Neenie!" she said, glowering at him.

Grandfather cleared his throat and knelt next to her, seriously. "Why, look at that!" he wheezed. "You're not a muffin at all! I was very confused for a moment there…good thing you caught that! Are you _sure_ you're not a muffin?"

She wiped her curls away from her sweaty face, explaining, "'F's I was a muffin, I'd _eat_ me a'ready, o'course!"

Gampa nodded. "Ah, yes, I see…but let me just check!"

Hermione shrieked as he grabbed her tummy and started gobbling her right up. "Hepps! Hepps me, _pwease_?"

"Mm-mmm!" Munkle Will walked right past her to put the cooler down on the yacht. "She must be delicious, isn't she, Dad?"

Grandfather Granger lifted his face long enough to hold up his granddaughter's chubby arm and say, "Care for a limb?"

* * *

Hector was rummaging around the small kitchenette looking for an ice pack when he heard a little girl's screams, and froze. 

_I know those screams…I've heard them before._

His ears perked up and he soon heard a man's voice, shortly followed by a woman's.

_I wonder…

* * *

_

"So, this is the legendary little boat you were talking about?" Will set down the cooler and looked around him.

Immediately, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"_Legendary little boat_?" Grandfather asked incredulously. "My son, this 'little boat' is one of the newest models! She's the pride of the harbor! The BCYA! Ye can't just go around calling a Milan 360 a '_little boat'_!"

Will put his arms up in surrender. "Well, I never was the seagoing type!" he muttered.

His remark, however, fell on Cordelia's ears alone. David had immediately gone aboard the varnished white yacht with a look of awe in his face.

"What does she take?" he asked eagerly.

"Single diesel," was the proud answer. "Nearly sixty feet long, she is, with a skeg-protected rudder and full keel. State-of-the-art finishings, too!"

David whistled and ran his hand over the side, staring down fondly at the blue words scrawled high above the water.

_The Olivia._

"And a name fit for a queen," David said softly.

The twinkle in his father's eye grew misty, and seemed to hold the very essence of sadness for a moment. Then John cleared his throat gruffly and asked, "Would you like a tour?"

Will joined Cordelia as the two men seemed to explore every inch of the gleaming yacht, all talk about maintenance, and maneuverability, and trawler speeds. "Makes you feel like you're in another world, doesn't it?" Will asked her in an undertone.

Cordelia chuckled. "Always has!"

Beside them, Hermione had plopped herself down on the dock, cooing and gurgling at the water, where she could faintly see three otters playing beneath the surface. Then, all of a sudden, Iris shot out of the water and slid across the planks, making Neenie shriek with delight. Not soon after, the two others followed and Neenie was immersed in whiskery kisses and sleek fur.

Iris, Juno, and Ceres were long-time friends of the little two-year-old, Will remembered. Neenie went to visit her grandfather at his cottage often, and was fast play-mates with the three otters. Iris, Juno, and Ceres, of course, seemed to adore her.

As Will watched Neenie stroke one of the otters --- he wasn't sure which one --- one of the other two put her front paws on Neenie's back (almost unbalancing the girl) and plucked that little brown hat right off her head.

Hermione shouted in indignation. "_Hey_! Give it _backs_, Juno! Give it backs to me, _now_, you bad odder!" Will was quite impressed that she knew the difference to discern between the three. They all looked the same to him.

Juno seemed to grin through the fabric that now filled her mouth. Her tail thumped the wooden planks, and Will could clearly see that this was the signal for "Come and play with me!"

_Blimey, they're almost like dogs! Amazing…I didn't know they were so smart…_

Hermione got up to get her hat, but right as she was about to snatch it from the otter's jaws, Juno gamboled off across the planks. She seemed to know not to go into the water, Will thought. That's what he thought the otter would do the first thing, but Juno somehow knew that if she did, Neenie couldn't come after her, so she stayed on the docks.

Hermione's face grew red as, again, she reached over to grab her durling hat, but Juno jumped away from her reach.

"'T'snot _funny_! Give it backs, you naughty Juno!" she shrieked, now chasing the mischievous otter around Will and Cordelia.

Will reached down to stop Juno, but just he did, she shot off the dock and onto the boat, finally disappearing down the opening that led to the galley. Straight as a flash, Neenie climbed over the railing and followed her, screeching, "_Don't hurt my durling hat_!"

Cordelia sighed wearily and unscrewed her water bottle, walking up to the yacht as well. "I'd better go make sure she doesn't get in the way. I sure hope she isn't too much trouble for you guys, today! I don't envy you, Will. Hermione Jane Granger is a handful!"

_

* * *

Aha! Found it! _

Hector wrenched the ice pack out of the box. He turned around and walked the rest of the floor to get to the stairs.

_Time to meet the rest of the family._

But just as he put his foot on the first narrow step, a brown blur shot past his ankle, and a split second later, a shrieking little girl came tearing after.

_Blimey! _he thought, slowly turning back and heading up the stairs again. _If I didn't know better, I'd say that she looked an awful lot like----_

"Aaaarrrgghhh!"

* * *

For Cordelia, there were some things in life that came in pleasant little surprises. Like suddenly finding someone she thought she was never going to see again. 

On the other hand, when that finding came in such an unexpected way and an even more unexpected place, she found that it wasn't so much as pleasant as it was startling.

As she rounded the corner to follow her daughter into the galley, she came face to face with Hector. It didn't help that she was carrying an unscrewed water bottle; and it also didn't help that the minute she'd seen him, her hands had flown up, thus drenching him.

He gave a strangled yell, she gave a great gasp, and David and Grandfather's talk shut off instantly.

"It's _you_!" Hector sputtered.

"I'm sorry!" Cordelia managed to gasp out, horrified at what she'd just done. "It's just that I-I-I didn't think I'd see you here!"

David, Will, and Grandfather rounded the corner, curious as to what was going on. Seeing the new boat-hand drenched with bottled water, Grandfather gave a wide grin, Will guffawed, and David cast an appraising eye over his wife. "Twice in one morning! You certainly are getting around, aren't you, water goddess?" he smirked.

"_Huh_?" Will said, as Cordelia reached around him to slug her husband. Then----

"It's who?" he asked, changing tactics and turning to Hector.

Hector apparently didn't seem to hear him as he suddenly looked back in the galley, where Neenie was sitting on the small bed, tugging furiously at her hat, still in Juno's mouth. "I _thought_ she sounded familiar," he muttered.

"How?" Will asked, confused.

"Do you…_know_ him from somewhere, Cordelia?" David said with a small frown.

"Know him?" Cordelia repeated incredulously. "He only saved our daughter's life this morning, David! I barely _know_ him…but this…_this_ is Hector!"

"_What?" _Will nearly snapped his neck turning to look at the boat-hand again.

"You know, you don't sound very intelligent, Will," Cordelia remarked.

"Oh," Will said. Then realization sunk in. "_Hey_!"

Grandfather snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration, ignoring Will. "So _that's _why you took so long!" he said to Hector, moving past his boat-hand to climb the stairs.

Cordelia laughed, following him. "Sent him on some errands, did you, Dad? You haven't finished that enormous bag of fish-and-chips I sent you last week already, did you?"

"Oy! Now see here…" Grandfather growled, then started off on a long tangent.

David shook his head and turned to the young man he had wanted to meet since that morning. "So…you're Hector, eh?" he asked, extending his hand. "Honored to meet you. I've been wanting to ever since I heard my wife's tale on your actions this morning."

Hector clasped the man's hand and shook it heartily. "Old wives' tales," he said, grinning. "I guess she made it into this grand adventure where I come out the victor, eh? Quite the opposite, really…in fact, I was told later that I was so out of it, I couldn't even tell male from female!"

"Cordelia doesn't exaggerate," David said slowly, turning away to start up the stairs after his father and wife. "By the way, how's that leg of yours?"

To his surprise, Hector took a few moments to answer. "Fit as a fiddle," he finally said as the two men came out into the sunlight again. "I've never felt better in my life."

David grunted and looked out over the harbor, where everything was a bustle of motion. "Well…I guess 'magic' is a term that can be used loosely when it wants to be, and strongly when it doesn't!" he said.

Hector looked oddly at him, but said nothing. After a minute's silence, David smiled. "Again, thanks, Hector. Not every man would have sacrificed what you did to save a stranger…no matter how little she might be."

Hector's ears grew red underneath his thick, brown hair. "Yeah, I kind of realized that when I noticed I was the only one racing out there," he muttered. "I didn't even think about it, really…my feet carried themselves."

David turned to his father, grinning. "Well! Looks like you've found yourself a pretty good boat-hand, Dad!"

Will and John Granger chuckled, shooting appraised glances over at Hector.

"Yep…what a small world this is!" Grandfather mused. "So how about her, son? Is she ready to ride?"

David caught the glint in his father's eye and knew how proud he was of this fine boat. He heard a satisfied grunt near his feet and saw Neenie emerge from the stairs, fixing her 'durling' hat back on her head, her tongue out at the chagrined otter, who slipped between the girl's feet and back into the water.

He looked over at the other two men beside him --- from Will, who kept looking between him and Dad with a "_What have I gotten myself into?" _sort of look on his face --- all the way over to Hector, the new boat-hand, who was staring at John Granger with an expression that David couldn't quite place. It puzzled him for all of the two seconds he was looking at the younger man, but when David turned around to face his wife, the musings were immediately forgotten.

Cordelia looked back at her husband with the biggest grin he had ever seen on her. She raised her eyebrow at him, as if to say, "Well? What are you waiting for?"

He looked up at the wide, blue sky, where the sails of _The Olivia_ billowed in the breeze, before turning back to his father. He grinned.

"Yessir, she is! Let's take 'er out!"

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Aaaaannnndd, their off! Things are all starting to fall into place, aren't they? Such a nice, homely bunch. Makes me wish I were a part of them...but I guess, as the writer, I really am, aren't I? There are times when certain characters just seem to write themselves, and these people really have._

_I thought that I should just take this little moment to say that I _know_ everything. (Fabulous me, I know). _

_I _know_ that "The Tempest" has had 1,696 hits. __I _know_ that this story is on the Favorites list of fifteen of you, nine of whom haven't even paid me a visit yet. I _know_ that this story is also on the Story Alert for eighteen of you, thirteen of whom I've never even heard of. _

_I know who you lurkers are...believe me, I _know_ everything!_

_And it is with this unsurpassable, superior knowledge that I also choose to reveal unto you the title of chapter seven..._

_"Ye Mariners of England"_


	7. Ye Mariners of England

_**Disclaimer: I disclaim Rowling's characters, her world and her ideas. I claim mine. But I can't claim the song "Ye Mariners of England", which was written by a bloke named Thomas Campbell. So, likewise, I must disclaim the title. (And we all know already that whatever quotes I insert at the beginning of the chapter are Shakespeare's). We all clear now?****

* * *

** _

_"I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate to closeness, and the bettering of my mind."_

_---- Prospero, Act I, Scene II_, **The Tempest**

**

* * *

**

_**THE TEMPEST

* * *

**_

_**--- Ye Mariners of England ---**_

_**T**_hey had made it safely out of the harbour…farewells were made, last-minute reminders shouted out, the engines started, the anchor weighed, and kisses exchanged (with well-meaning looks from the three men who weren't involved). David wheedled Neenie out of Cordelia's arms with well-practiced ease before the kisses began.

Meanwhile, the three otters managed to drive Will up the wall in the ten minutes it took for Grandfather and Hector to ready the yacht, and David and Cordelia to say their goodbyes. Finally, after many agonizing moments of putting up with the three devils, Will had an idea.

He spotted an empty packing crate at the end of the dock, with fishing lines and some bait sitting next to it. With an air of 'doing good' about him, he grabbed the bait and tossed a few bits of dead minnow to the otters, who scrambled over each other furiously to get to them first. Then he chucked the rest of the bait into the empty crate; the otters tore after it, and, with a faint cry of triumph, he wrestled the lid onto the box, tying it shut with the fishing line.

He chuckled, wiped his hands together, and went to rejoin the others who were getting underway.

It wasn't until Cordelia had waved them out of the harbour that she realized the box she was sitting on was moving on its own accord. With a realization and a curse, she untied the fishing line and the three missing miscreants fumbled out. The four men and the baby on the yacht watching them in the distance, Iris, Juno, and Ceres raced each other along the length of the dock and plunged into the water, making quick time to get to their loving master.

Grandfather lowered his cane into the water for them to grab onto, and Hermione squealed with delight, running forward to hug her "lost, durling odders". David laughed heartily as his older brother cowered in front of the growling animals. If looks could kill, Will would be way below the water's surface, five fathoms deep and sinking fast.

Otters did not forgive easily.

* * *

It started out as a low grumble. Grandfather, at the helm, gazed out to the north, in the direction they were sailing, his cap pulled low over his eyes to block out the sun's glare. 

Hector looked up at the sky, startled. It sounded like thunder, but the clouds above were whiter than snow…just then, David and Will picked up the grumbling and started to hum in two different keys…

And then Hector understood. That grumbling he'd heard wasn't thunder at all --- the noise was coming from John Granger himself. In fact…it looked as though the old man was _humming_!

With John Granger doing the low bass, and Will belting out the baritone, David began to sing the melody in a strong, deep tenor.

_"Ye mariners of England,_

_That guard our native seas;_

_Whose flag has braved the thousand years,_

_The battle and the breeze!"_

_Blimey!_ Hector knew this song…about every single sailor did, in fact. And the three Granger men looked as if they sang this song fairly often, each singing or humming a different set of chords that matched together perfectly.

It was a bouncy, fairly energetic tune, and Hector was caught up in the spirit almost immediately. He opened his mouth to sing the second verse along with David.

_"Your glorious standard launch again_

_To match another foe!_

_And sweep through the deep,_

_While the stormy winds do blow;"_

Like the Barbershop Quartet, the men raised their voices loud and strong for the coming of the repetition, shouting out the last three syllables of the first line, as the song called for, and trailing out a long crescendo for the last word.

_"While the battle rages loud and long,_

_And the stormy winds do blow!"_

With big, round eyes Hermione watched them all, enchanted, as the yacht sailed along, spraying seawater everywhere. The wind whipped her bouncy tangle of brown curls around, and she had to squint against the strong rays of the sun.

Daddy, Gampa, and Munkle Will had proceeded straight on to the other verses, but after the seventh, Hector had to stop. He strode over to the bow and took a seat beside Hermione, who seemed entranced in her game of fetch with Ceres, also known as----

"Fets, Ceres, fets!"She giggled, throwing her doll as hard as she could…where it landed two feet in front of her, right on the poor otter's tail.

Hector shook his head and chuckled, reaching into the icebox and pulling out a water bottle.

_Kids…you gotta love them_. Hermione reminded him an awful lot of his own niece, a darling little girl of two with bright yellow hair.

_Oh Susie!_ The thought of her brought a pang to his chest. _How much you must have grown since last Christmas._

The events that had happened last winter, which had led to their separation, came again ever so clearer then they were before. When his oldest brother and his small family had died a few years ago, the world fell down around him…but when the news came that his brother's murderers were after him next…

_But, no…they didn't even stop there. They had to go and threaten Doug and Susie…and they've been in hiding ever since… I'm missing out on my only living niece's childhood, and I don't like it one bit._

He took a swig, wiped his mouth, and sat back, eyes closed, becoming a sailor to his own drifting thoughts. For as tired and dehydrated as he was, Hector was quite unaware of his captivated audience.

Hermione had watched him, wide-eyed, as he came over to where she was sitting to get a bottle of water. She had stared as he unscrewed the cap and took a long swig of it, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulped rather noisily. Then he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and put the lid back on, leaning back with his eyes closed until his head was in the shade.

Of such instances are memories made.

Neenie edged closer to him, trying to be as quiet as a titmouse. She stood up on the ice box and leaned ever closer to his face, astounded as she was by the lightest sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Why! They looked like teeny little bugs! Teeny little brown ones, all fluffy and round and they looked really, really soft. She wanted to touch one, to see if it would move…

Slowly, she reached out her hand, a little finger poised and ready to solve the mystery of the poka-dots all over his face. His nose was three inches away now…two inches…one inch…

_"BOO!"_

Hermione screamed and tumbled backwards off the icebox. Hector chuckled, leaned down, and set her back up on her feet. Her face was no wreath of smiles. "That was _mean_! That was bery, bery mean!" she pouted, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.

Hector held his arms out in surrender. "Yes, I agree, you're quite right. That was very mean for me to do. Can you forgive me?" he asked guiltily.

She glared at him. After one long minute of pointed silence, he lowered himself to his knees and prostrated himself before her, bowing low. "O High and Mighty One! Your lowly servant is but a humble man who begs forgiveness before Her Royal Majesty, Hermione the Queen. Please succumb to his wishes, and find it deep within yourself to place forgiveness upon this poor sailor! Please, I beg of you!" he implored, grovelling at her feet.

Hermione gave out a deep, drawn-out sigh and looked at her father over his head, as if saying, "Why must I put up with this?"

She reached down and tugged at his hair, in a glorious effort of helping him up. When he was finally kneeling at her level, she stood on his knees and wrapped her chubby little arms around his neck; then she puckered up her lips and used her hands to squash his cheeks in order for him to do the same.

David, Grandfather, and Will were watching the exchange with quite a bit of amusement, and they all laughed as they watched Hector colour slightly after she kissed him.

He gave a goofy grin and put up his best Cockney accent. "Kist by a real lady, I wos!"

A mighty gust of wind livened the sails quite considerably, just then, and the sun was so obscured by billowy clouds that it looked for a while as though that was the last they'd be seeing of it for the rest of the day.

In no time at all, the four servants and their queen were caught up in a roaring game of Parrot…the little queen being the subject of the game, of course --- a job which she was quite capable of fulfilling, and even more capable of enjoying.

"Right-o, Neenie, how about this," Will rubbed his hands and thought hard. "Can you say…'mariner'?"

"Meniner!" she repeated, clapping her hands with delight when they laughed at her.

"Can you say…'grandfather'?" John Granger asked, and then roared with laughter as she replied with a "Gampopper!"

Hector leaned in close to speak to David, as 'William' became 'Wilbum', and 'chocolate' became 'tocklett'.

"Do they always do this?" he asked in undertone, indicating John and Will.

"Are you kidding?" David laughed. "I'd think they'd play this game with themselves if they only knew how to pronounce the words right!"

There was a pause in the game as John and Will turned to look at the two men, who were turning red with laughter.

* * *

All in all, Hector thought, it was a pretty pleasant afternoon. It didn't take long for the Granger men to warm up to him as readily as they had warmed up to each other. Though he couldn't quite tell why, Hector had noticed a distinct cool tone between John Granger and his older son. It wasn't until David had 'accidentally' pushed Will overboard that the old man was seen with a true smile as he looked on at Will's antics. 

"Though you know I should be havin' you flogged for tryin' to do me gals in!" he told a sopping wet Will. "It's a captain's right!"

Will just glared back, then succumbed to the wiles of his sympathetic niece. "Finally, someone who loves me," he grumbled, as she brought towel after towel over to him.

It was while they were all sitting down to eat their lunch that Hector had the most unexpected conversation.

"So…Hector…d'you have any family hereabouts?" Will asked around his ham-and-cucumber sandwich. Neenie wrinkled her nose as she watched her uncle swish around his food in his mouth, looking every bit like her mother.

Hector stiffened and chewed slowly, delaying his answer.

"Oh, you won't be gettin' nothin' from him!" John Granger interrupted, feet propped up against the railing. "Tried askin' him meself this mornin', but he weren't saying nothin'. Clammed up like an oyster, he was!"

David furrowed his brows, but didn't look up from cutting Neenie's apple.

"No, I…" Hector hesitated. _Might as well get it all out now, if I'm going to be working with him_. "I-It's fine…I don't mind." He looked up to meet three pairs of eyes (Neenie was staring at his shoes, not his face), and settled back in his chair. "Well, I grew up in York, in North Riding----"

"Yes, yes, we know where that is, we're not daft," John interrupted. His younger son glared at him over Neenie's head.

Hector briefly smiled. "Sorry. Back then I was the youngest in my family, with an older sister and two brothers----"

"Wait. What do you mean by 'back then'?" Will butted in. "'Back then' meaning…you aren't now?"

"When I was sixteen, my parents died," Hector explained. "I was left in the care of my sister. Then shortly after I'd finished school----"

Neenie giggled. Juno had climbed onto her, placed her front paws on Neenie's chest, and stuck her nose into the girl's ear, as though longing to tell her a secret.

"Where'd you go to school?" Will asked.

"Erm…somewhere quite north of here, you've probably never heard of it," Hector said, flustered.

"Have you been to university? Or are you looking into one?" David said.

Hector studied his plate, choosing his next words carefully. "Truthfully, I haven't even thought of it. You see, after I'd finished school, my parents' murderers went after my eldest brother and his wife and kids. So now it's just me and my other brother and sister. I've just been so busy trying to support me and my sister that there's never been much time for furthering my education. But I've always had a knack for sailing, and it does make a good living…you, of all people, ought to know this, John."

Hector glanced up to see John Granger staring out over the sea, a far-off look in his eyes.

Will looked confused. "But…what about the men who killed your family? Have they been apprehended? Are they still out there, or did the authorities catch up to them?"

"Will," David warned. "I'm not too sure he wants to talk about it now."

Will looked disgruntled, but didn't say anything, which Hector was grateful for. There was an awkward silence that filled the yacht now, broken only by Neenie's persistent giggles.

All in all, everyone was pleased when Will rummaged around and held up a bag of ripe cherries and a pack of playing cards, saying, "Cherry Poker, anyone?"

* * *

Hector set down his cards after his fourth round. 

"I'm out," he said, and popped one of his cherries in his mouth. He felt a tugging on his trousers and looked down to see Hermione scrambling to get onto his lap.

"Wants one," she demanded.

"Come over here, Neenie," Daddy said, not wanting her to be in the way.

She pouted. "No!"

"It's alright, I'll cut them up for her," Hector said, hastily. "You've got a game to win."

"Oi, and who said that_ I_ wouldn't be the one winning?" Will said mildly. "See your ten and raise you fifty."

"Bit cocky, aren't you?" Grandfather asked, setting his cherries in the middle of the table.

David chuckled. "That's how he's always played, Dad. But I know a bluff when I see one."

"Oh, bluffing, am I?" Will retorted.

Hector looked down as the two grown men started bickering, to see Neenie looking up at him expectantly. "I's Neenie," she chirped.

He laughed and said, "You're right, we never have been properly introduced, have we?"

She just smiled shyly at him.

"My name is very long," he said.

"Whats is it?"

"Pandaemon Hector."

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on tightly, pretending to be a monkey. "I likes you, Pan!"

"Oh yeah? Well I likes you, too, Neenie!" he said, tickling her.

Laughing and squirming, she managed to wriggle out of his grasp and onto the floor, where she dived under the table for cover. Will jerked as she latched onto his leg and crawled up. "Why, hallo there, little snake!" he exclaimed as she settled herself in his lap, sticking her tongue out comically at Hector.

"Will, it's your draw," Grandfather said.

Neenie looked at the newly acquired cards in her uncle's hand. They reminded her of a game she and Mummy would play, with things called 'mumbers'. In fact…the cards did have mumbers on them, and one of them looked an awful lot like a----

"Swee!" she squealed, pointing. "Swee…an' a two…an' a fo'…an' a --- a----a----"

"Why you little----!" Will roared. Grandfather, David, and Hector burst out laughing. "She's --- she's _reading my cards_! You little cheater!" He plucked her off his lap and sat her down on the ground.

Startled at this new change of scenery and at the sharp tone her uncle had used with her, Hermione screwed up her face and began to cry.

"Will! Now look what you've done, you big prat!" David said, and hurried to console his daughter. As he picked her up, her wails just grew louder, and Iris, who had been sleeping in the stern, gave a rather human-like grumble and shoved her head underneath her sister's rump.

"Can we start this round over?" Will said.

"Could _you _stop being a bloody imbecile?" Grandfather growled. "Look at what you did to the poor child!"

In spite of her tears, Neenie managed to wail, "Wants Pan! Wants Pan!"

Hector half-rose out of his chair, accidentally knocking the table over in his haste to get up and console the girl. His face was one of tragedy that Will was most wont to tease…had he himself not been the cause for his niece's grief.

"No, Neenie…shh, not now. It's time for your nap," David whispered.

At once, Neenie's wails rose to screams. "_Nononononononononono_!" she cried, flailing her fists.

"I could be wrong, but I don't think she wants one," Will said.

"Well, _I _think that you should be recommended for just stating the obvious!" Grandfather said.

"And_ I_ think your poker game has decided to call it a draw," Hector said, looking at the upturned table and spewed cards.

"And_ I_ think it's time our grumpy little queen went down below to take her nap!" David said, and set off down the narrow stairs.

This idea apparently didn't suit well with 'their little queen', however. Hector could hear her screaming and kicking the whole way down and felt a twinge of guilt. Even Will, he noticed, was looking a bit chagrined, feeling that it was his fault for scaring her.

_And all because I chased her under the table… If I had known she'd start a tantrum because of it…I hope she falls asleep all right…_

"Don' worry, lad, she puts up a fuss every time she goes for a nap. Don' be blaming yourself for her tantrums," John Granger said.

Hector looked over at him, a bit startled. "Since when did you start reading minds, _Gampa_?"

The old captain chuckled. "Since you decided to fall in love with a two-year-old, _Pan_!"

* * *

As well as could be expected, Hermione did have a fitful nap. David emerged from the stairwell long after her screams had ceased, looking thoroughly exhausted and well-worn. 

"We plumb forgot to bring her bedtime book, so I had to think up a story to tell her and she…er…well, it didn't seem to please her for some reason…" he explained.

"What was it about?" Grandfather said.

"A large castle and a little princess. I just got to the part where she befriends a giant dog after meeting the fierce giant, when Neenie started screaming, saying I was doing it wrong!" he shook his head, remembering.

"How'd she say it was supposed to go, then?"

"Well…I couldn't quite tell at first, but I kind of got the drift that she wanted the giant to be the friendliest giant in the world, and the large dog was supposed to be mean and ugly and scare the little princess very much," David sighed. "How she ever got to be this picky is beyond me!"

"_You_ were always pretty mild when we were little, Dave, so I'd say it's all Cordelia's fault. Who knows how much of a terror she was at that age? Her mother probably spoiled her no end!" Will said.

"You're right, Will, you were the wild one. Always blamed for everything, you were. Mum never looked twice at me when she saw that someone had replanted all her flowering bulbs in the loo. I'll forever be grateful!" David smirked at his older brother.

"That was _you_?" Will yelped. His father roared with laughter as Will held his head in his hands. "Holy shite…she never forgave me for it…I'm still scarred from having to pull those damned roots out of the plumbing! _And_ it took me a week to be able to pull all the thorns out of the seat! And it was _you _the whole bloody time!"

David just chuckled and turned to Hector.

"We had to pee on a flowerbed for a week," he explained. "Will's just sore because he had to be rushed to the hospital after getting a thorn stuck up his----"

"New subject!" Grandfather sang.

* * *

Will was suspicious. 

He'd been taking a nap in the hot sun with a bottle of beer in the one hand and a cucumber sandwich in the other when he suddenly noticed the lack of voices.

_Why is it so quiet around here?_

He cocked open an eye and peered around him. To the left, Dad, David, and Hector were sitting around the table and conversing in whispers.

_Now I know something's up. They've never whispered while I was sleeping if they could help it._

He thought a while, watching them.

_They're either scheming or trying to make me think that they're scheming_, he decided. _Either way, I won't be fooled._

He closed his eye and pretended a huge snore, listening hard as to what they were whispering about. After ten minutes of spying and coming up with nothing, he promptly drifted asleep.

He never even noticed that the yacht had altered its course sixty-five degrees to the right.

* * *

It was nearing four o'clock in the afternoon when Will started seeing a little blob on the horizon. 

"Hey what is that?" he asked, squinting.

"_That_, you devil, is a change of plans," Grandfather answered.

A little brown head poked around the stairwell. Spotting a certain person, she zigzagged around the group of legs until she threw herself onto a pair of brown-tasselled shoes. "Sssss, sssss!" she hissed, wrapping her little arms around her daddy's legs.

"Oof! A snake's got me!" David said. He disentangled her arms from his legs and picked her up. Almost immediately she had her head on his shoulder and a thumb in her mouth.

"Not's a snaky no mores!" she yawned, snuggling closer to her daddy.

It was widely known that the person who tucked her into bed before she fell asleep would become the object of her affection as soon as she woke up. There would be no removing her from her daddy's arms for another hour or so.

Another ten minutes later, Will could clearly see that the little blob he'd noticed earlier was turning out to be an island. It was a fairly moderate island, of a rather decent size; Will saw a few towns at the very least, surrounded by a forest of trees further inland. And there up ahead----

"A harbour?" he asked, puzzled. "I thought the only one for miles around was Brownsville's. Where are we?"

Hector said nothing, but turned the yacht sharply right to avoid running into a rowboat that came whizzing by. The two men onboard the dingy sailing craft never even bothered a sorry, but kept on straight into the mouth of the harbour.

If that weren't enough to send Will into the depths of confusion, the fact that Hector wasn't heading toward the harbour, but rather avoiding it completely, and going, instead, the opposite direction sure did it.

They sailed right by the harbour's docks and sailing vessels to the other wilder side of the island. The forest was dense and quite overgrown; cliffs jutted out high above them while waves crashed upon the rock base with such ferocity that Will was shocked.

Hermione held tight to her father's neck, staring at the looming cliffs with enormous eyes. David stared at them grimly, all the while whispering words of comfort to her. Even the otters, Will could see, shrunk back from the railing, not wanting to swim in that strong current and eyeing the crashing waves with distaste.

Hector was at the helm, face set, carefully steering the yacht clear from the waves' pull with Grandfather muttering directions in his ear.

"Don't clutch the wheel so…easy does it…the wind is pulling us a little more now…more to starboard, now, more to starboard!"

Will saw how tense Hector was, and realized why. If he so much as gave the boat an inch, the current could catch them and bash them against the sharp rocks. They'd all be shark meat within minutes.

It was enough to make anyone nervous.

Making a wide berth around the cliffs, they were soon freed from the strong current and everyone let out a collective breath they hadn't known they'd been holding.

Hector navigated them around the shoals, keeping a weather eye out for any rocks jutting up underwater. Around them were gorgeous rock formations, rounded by centuries of water and wind. Caves weren't uncommon, ranging from small otter-sized cubbies to daunting and gaping black holes. It was to one such cave, which had quite a sunnier spot and rather warmer waters than most, that Hector steered the _Milan 360_.

Will was still marvelling at the peacefulness of this little cove when David and Grandfather emerged from the galley with fishing poles and tackle, grins on their faces. Hermione squealed when her father presented her little floaties, and the otters were off in the water in a flash.

"Where _are _we?" he asked.

"The newly-dubbed Granger Fishing Cove, of course!" his father answered. "David and I found it last year."

"Well, yes, but…but _where_?"

David looked up from fitting Neenie's bathing suit on. "But didn't you know where we are, Will? Even you weren't this daft, I thought!"

Will opened his mouth to retort, but his younger brother's next words took the wind out of him.

"We're at Bowman's Isle, of course!"

* * *

_**Author's Note: **But, of course. Now who can tell me what significance this new information holds? And who can catch all the clues I've inserted here about what will happen next? Especially those concerning quite a bit of the plot-line? And don't despair! We haven't seen the last of Cordelia...or Puck, for that matter. they still have one more role to play before the end is through._

_Question: What sort of revenge should the otters have on Will for him locking them in the box? Hmm? I haven't decided what I want to do with that, so any thoughts on the matter would be appreciated...and full credit, of course!_

_Now, I know that you've all been going "__Yes! She's finally updated!" but I thought that I should warn you that this bliss will only last a couple of chapters or so before it is all overturned! So don't say I didn't warn you. Things will be getting pretty nasty in a bit..._

_...In fact, I know that this will sound horribly cliched, but somebody is going to die. In fact, a couple of people. So BE WARNED!_

_...Right then...now that I've scared you all off...is there anyone left of you to review the chapter now?_

_Please?_


	8. Bowman's Isle

_**Gonzalo: **"I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always used to laugh at nothing."_

_**Antonio: **'Twas you we laugh'd at."_

_**Gonzalo: **"----Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still."_

_---- Gonzalo, Act II, Scene I_, **The Tempest

* * *

**

_**THE TEMPEST

* * *

**_

_**--- Bowman's Isle ---**_

**_H_**ermione bobbed in the water, her legs kicking under her. Large, warm hands held her little waist comfortingly and pushed her through the water, making her squeal with glee. Every so often, Iris would swim around her and splash water at her with a flick of her tail. But however much fun she was having in the water, it was nothing compared to Pan's delight.

"Fasta, fasta, Pan!" Neenie shrieked, and Pan obliged. He propelled her through the chest-deep water and grinned, listening to her infectious laughter.

The three otters thought this game was very entertaining. They raced along underwater, swimming through Pan Hector's legs and looping Neenie's little body.

At first, the Granger men had argued who would fish and who would keep her entertained. Pan answered that one by stripping his shirt off and expressing his inexorable wish to avoid the 'chance of a lifetime', as Will so generously put it. With just his trousers on, he plunged into the water, Hermione in tow.

On the rocks in the mouth of the cave, David, Grandfather, and Will watched all with mild amusement. Their lines were cast, the bait was set, and all they had now to do was wait and hope that Iris, Juno, and Ceres didn't scare all of the fish away. It was now Neenie's fifth time being pushed around the cove, and still Pan wasn't breaking a sweat.

"More likely to drown himself rather than her if he keeps going on like that," Grandfather remarked, watching them.

"Makes you wish you weren't quite so old and feeble, now, doesn't it?" said Will sourly. Apparently, he was still angry with John and David Granger for taking him to Bowman's Isle without his permission.

"No, it makes me wish I had someone decent for a son, instead of the blockhead sitting next to me!"

"Be fair, Dad, David isn't all that bad."

"You're right. He's just a dentist. It's the inane actors I abhor."

"Ouch. Such strong words for a fragile, little grandpa like you."

"You want to know fragile? Come right over here, wimp, and I'll show you how fragile your wrist is when I break it!"

"Children, children," David interrupted lazily. "Must I come over there and separate you two?"

"_But_! He started it!" Will complained in a child's high, whiny voice.

Any further protests were cut short when David felt his line give a yank. Not shortly after, Will and Grandfather were also kept busy in the ensuing chaos that followed.

Further out, Neenie let out a shriek of laughter as Iris started nibbling on her toes. Pan felt, rather than heard, the otter chuckle in reply as Iris launched herself at him, climbing up onto his back from the water's surface.

A relaxed null settled in the crooks of the cave. A few gulls were feeding in the distance, shrieking and squawking loudly as they fought over a dead mackerel. In the sky, the sun was waning, delving deeper and deeper in the west.

Will moodily fingered the line of his fishing pole. Next to him, his father was running his usual jokes about dentistry to Hector, who had come ashore for a break, while David --- having been through this process many times before --- just rolled his eyes and sighed. Normally, Will would have loved a chance at making his younger brother uncomfortable, but his mind was on something else.

_Why did they do this, the bloody morons? Why did they bring me here? They know I can't face her…not after what I did. _

He had asked his father and brother the very same thing after they were unloading the fishing supplies from the yacht.

"Well, we've only known about it for half an hour," David had said. "It was mutual agreement."

"Oh, _really_? Agreement to what?" Will snapped.

His brother then had come around and looked him in the eye. "Agreement on getting your arse in gear to apologize to her, of course!"

And that was the end of the conversation.

_She probably can't stand the sight of me now_, he now thought savagely. _I wouldn't be surprised if she demanded my head on a platter right on the spot. _

He snorted. _Forget about demanding it, she'd probably do it herself! I'm not exactly the most-liked man around here anymore. _

The conversation beside him shifted, and his ears pricked when he heard a name mentioned.

_Sebastian! Damn, how could I forget about him? He's only her brother, for Gehenna's sake! He'll crucify me...!_

He moaned and collapsed on the gunnysack behind him.

"What's up _your_ trousers?"

He turned to see all three men looking over at him. "You are!" he snapped.

David made a distasteful noise and wrinkled his nose, "I think I'll pass, thank you."

Hector clapped his hands over Hermione's ears when Will explained in great detail where exactly he thought his brother should go.

"Oh, sod it," David said. "This still isn't about Rebecca, is it?"

"What d'you think, you ponce?" Will said roughly.

"Come off it, Will, and give it a rest! It's been a bloody year, she's bound to have forgotten already," Grandfather added.

"Forgotten? Have _you_ forgot what happened, Dad? I dragged her up on a stage in front of hundreds of people and completely disgraced her! I made a drunken arse of myself and shouted her name to the world! She had reporters hounding her for weeks afterwards; why…we even made the front page of _The Daily Press_! Now tell me how, in the devil's name, she's supposed to have '_forgotten_' that!" he said, glaring at his father and brother.

Hector gaped at Will, faintly aware of Neenie tugging on his arm.

"Be's a fissy, Pan. I wants to be's a fissy some mores!"

"Alright, alright," Hector said, and gladly let her steer him away from the conversation.

"You are right, Will," said David once Hector and Neenie were once more engaged in their game. "Most likely she hasn't forgot, but she's bound to have forgiven you. Don't you remember, this is Rebecca we're talking about! She'd forgive a mad axe-man if he'd only look at her with puppy-eyes!"

"Your point being?" said Will sarcastically.

"My point being that we are going to her house whether you like it or not! You're a man, Will --- er, that is, you're supposed to be --- so _act_ like one!"

Will fumed about this. He knew that no matter how much he ranted or raved, his brother would never give in; however, this didn't stop him from trying.

"So what d'you expect me to do then, eh? Waltz right in there and ask her to forgive a drunken fool, and we'll pretend it never happened? Just like that?" he asked incredulously.

Dad and David looked at each other for a split second before turning back to him.

"_Yes!"_

* * *

"I can't believe you're actually convincing me to waltz right into her house and apologize," Will was still muttering an hour later. 

"What are you, ten?" Grandfather asked.

They had wanted to leave the cove earlier so they could still have time to visit Rebecca and Sebastian before leaving for home, but Hermione had other plans. After her seventh marvellous ride around the cove with her Pan, she took it in turns to drag each of the men out into the water with her.

Daddy showed her how to hold her breath underwater.

"Since birth, you see, babies naturally have the talent to swim and breathe underwater," Grandfather explained to Hector as they watched them. "And when Hermione was just a little'un, Cordelia had taken her to the community's water aerobic classes. She's a right little otter in the water, that one. But then, as children grow older, their instincts start dyin' away, and they forget how…"

The world was a very different place underwater, she soon discovered. The world was blue, and she was floating, and her hair was moving around her, and Daddy was holding his breath and looking at her and holding her, smiling. Bubbles were floating everywhere, and otters were darting here and there. They swam about bringing in a flurry of current, looping themselves around her, gambolling, teasing, urging her to come and play with them. They were ecstatic that she was where they were, and they could see her and she could see them.

She clung to her daddy as they zoomed by her, watching them go back and forth, to and fro…

…And then Gampa was there. He grabbed gently around Ceres' middle and with her force, she carried him through the water for a while before slowing down for the weight.

They broke surface for a while and Gampa let the otters do tricks for her. They raced each other to the end of the cove and back; David was certain he even saw Juno shove Iris a little, and Ceres pulling Juno's tail with her mouth so that she could beat her. Gampa threw the rest of the unused bait high into the air, letting the otters race after it. Ceres earned a round of applause when she got there first and kicked off from a rock to leap into the air and catch the airborne fillet in her mouth.

Then, while Juno and Ceres were showing off how they could climb up Grandfather's body in order to get to the small squid he'd perched atop his head, Iris slipped off on a mission of her own.

Unseen by any of the others, she slipped up on the rocks and behind Will, who was standing by the water's edge, torn between wanting to join them and his hatred and fear of the depths of the water.

Iris made his decision for him.

Will only heard a small chitter of triumph before claws dug into his leg and small jaws connected painfully with his buttocks.

"AAARRRRGGGHHH!"

He pitched headfirst into the aquatic depths in front of him, Iris still clamped on.

David and Hector and Dad were laughing uproariously when Will emerged, scowling. He was too busy cursing to hear his father give a chirrup in between his teeth. The next thing he knew, Juno and Ceres had leapt into the water with Iris and began to climb all over him as if he were a theme park, combing their claws through his hair, wrapping their thick tails around his biceps, and chewing on his ears.

Hermione stared at the spectacle for only a moment before ploughing straight through the water, dogpaddling as fast as her chubby legs could carry her, shrieking. "Munkle Will! Munkle Will!"

Finally she reached him and wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him all over. "Is it hurts? Is it gotsa booboo?"

"No, Neenie, Munkle Will is just fine. He just has a very sore bottom. But, _thank you for noticing_!" he said loudly over his shoulder to where his idiotic other three 'friends' were still in a laughing fit.

"You're quite welcome!" David managed to call out. "But you do know that was a long time coming? As Cordelia always says, '_Turnabout is fair play_!'"

"Oh, bugger off, you masticated sea monkey!" Will said, annoyed.

His brother snorted. "Well, I'm a sight better than you, barnacle-butt!"

* * *

It took quite a while, but after three rounds of pleading, cajoling, arm-twisting, and apologizing, agreement was finally reached. The two teams were organized, the rules laid down, and the game begun. 

It was Water Polo at its finest.

"Foul!"

"I wasn't using two hands, you git, I was scratching my elbow!"

"Sure, like I'll believe _that_ one."

"SCORE!"

"Great bullocks, you two! Quit fighting like a pair halfwits and join the game!"

"They're only fighting because they _are_ halfwi --- ooph!"

"Oops."

"Now, _that_ was a foul! So, Hector gets awarded the Neenie-ball --- and he shoots --- and he --- SCORES! So we're playing one-on-one now, the Snarks against the Barnacle-Butts, and everyone's wondering: _Who will win_?"

Of course, the game did have its setbacks, and the lack of players and resources were one of them. Instead of a ball, for instance, Hermione was the catch prize.

But when Will first suggested her being the 'ball', David was torn. "What will I tell Cordelia? She'd never allow it…I'll be skinned alive."

"Dear, dear little brother," Will said, shaking his head. "She can't if we don't, which we won't! She'll never even know…"

So Hermione shrieked with glee as she was 'tossed' from man to man over the water, back and forth across the cove. Daddy tucked her under his arm and dodged Hector before passing her off to Gampa, who swooped her up and bore her through the water.

Once, Will was called on brutality for kicking Hector on the shins underwater. He, of course, tried to proclaim his innocence by insisting that he'd glimpsed an otter near his foot, but the evidence was against him. As he complained after Hector took the penalty shot, "And _why_ would I attack my own team?"

It was shortly after David threw Hermione to Grandfather and he failed to catch her that the game drew to a close. She emerged from the water a split second after she went under, giggling happily, saved by her remarkable little floozies.

"Now look who's talking, butterfingers!" Will smirked at his father.

"Oi! My fingers are numb! I can't grip properly anymore!"

"So said the angler to the octopus."

"But anglers don't have----"

"Exactly."

But everyone agreed that it was starting to get chilly. Even though Neenie'd been kept out of the water for the better part of the game, David had to wrap her into a blanket cocoon after he finished drying her off for her to be comfortable.

The supplies were put away, the yacht secured in a place not too far from the cove where it would be safe from bashing into the rocks on the fast rising tide. Wet clothes were exchanged for dry ones, and the former were draped over the railings, the mast, the rigging, and every other place imaginable.

They set off.

* * *

The path up the cliffs was steep and narrow. It was nearing sunset and Neenie could see her and her daddy's shadow against the rock face. She was riding piggyback, leaving David his hands to hold the side of the cliff so he didn't stumble. Far below them, the waves were crashing against the base, becoming more ferocious by the minute. 

Grandfather led them single file as the path finally reached the top and twisted around a knot of trees, a staff in his hand to help his bad back. His oldest son came next, and could be heard muttering, but what he was saying no one could quite catch. Daughter up top, David was third in line, panting slightly at the abrupt climb. Lastly came Hector, with a bag slung over his shoulder that housed their immediate goods, most of them Neenie's belongings.

Their shadows were long, but the trees' shadows were longer. Hector was following the rest when he suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. He swivelled on the spot, his bag banging against his side, but he saw nothing behind him.

_I don't like this_…he thought, the hairs on his arm starting to prickle. _Oh, I really don't like this… _

The trees cleared and they continued on. After a while, Grandfather started to sing in a lusty voice an old sea ditty.

"_Ho! The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,_

_The gunner and his mate,_

_Loved Mal, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,_

_But none of us cared for Kate!"_

David chuckled. _Dad and his songs_! He turned to look back at Hector but was startled out of what he was going to say by the odd expression on the young man's face.

"What, do you not care for the song?" he joked.

Hector looked up at him, an intense look in his eyes, his face taut with worry. "No…it's not that," he said.

David waited, but Hector didn't say anything else. "Well…" David prompted him.

"I…well…I just have a strange feeling, is all. It's probably nothing." Hector said, waving it away.

"_For she had a tongue with a tang,_

_Would cry to a sailor 'Go hang!'_

_She loved not the savour of tar, nor of pitch,_

_Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:_

_Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!"_

The path widened and they came to Antonio Street, which had old, Victorian cottages dotted on both sides. Ivy twisted down the roofs and into nice little gardens; the yards were enclosed with hedges and quaint white fences. Neenie squealed as a black cat darted up to David and started entwining itself around his legs.

"Kitty! Kitty, Daddy, kitty! Wants to pet kitty, pwease? Wants to, pwease?" she asked.

Will, meanwhile, had seemed to pick up his old uneasiness. He suggested going back to the boat and waiting with the otters until they came back. He even tried turning around and going back down the path, but David and Grandfather caught him around the shoulders and hauled him back.

"What's the matter, is ickle Willy frightened of the big, mean lady?" David teased.

"No…he's rather frightened of the lady's bigger and meaner older brother!" Will said, but he shut up after that.

After a few moments of listening to the silence around him, David decided to remark on the weather. "My, it's gorgeous out here…there's going to be quite a colourful sunset, too, you can tell by those clouds."

Will peered at them. "Quite close to the ground, wot, wot? Sure you can navigate through them, Dad?"

"Well, I taught you how to speak, didn't I? And let me tell you that _that_ was no easy feat!" Grandfather said.

"Yeah, you taught me how to speak," Will muttered savagely. "And how to lie, and how to cheat, and how to curse…"

"Yes, I am quite a man of many talents, aren't I? Good thing you had me to look up to all these years and not some daft drunkard!" Grandfather said cheerfully.

Will rolled his eyes up to the sky. "Why couldn't you've just given me a normal father?" he asked the heavens.

"Why couldn't _I_ have just had a normal son?" Grandfather retorted.

"And what am I, chopped seaweed?" David said.

"Whatever flies your kite, Dave," Will said.

"Don't you mean, whatever floats your boat?"

"It's called a _yacht_!"

"Thank you, Dad. But 'whatever floats your yacht' doesn't sound nearly as good as what I said…however wrong it may sound in nautical terms," David explained.

"How about, whatever drives your car?" Will asked.

"Fair enough, but I don't quite like cars myself," Grandfather said.

"But…however do you get around?" Hector asked him.

"My boy, the sea is my driveway, and the stars are my windshield."

Meanwhile, Will was still shouting out phrases.

"How about…whatever makes your bed? Or, whatever kills your cat? Or, whatever lays your egg? Or----"

David interrupted his brother's thinking with a shout to his father. "Hoy! Don't we turn off here?"

He was peering down a lane on the right side of the road. At first glance, he thought it was just a driveway, but then he spotted a sign half-hidden by tree branches, reading **GRYFFINDOR LANE**.

"Funny name for a road, don't you think?" Grandfather said, looking up at it.

"It sounds so…_old_," Will added.

"Well, heads to tails, it is," David said. "I don't know how old Bowman's Isle is, but it's been around for quite a while…"

"_So…"_ Will said, peering down the darkening trail, "Who wants to enter the dark and scary forest first?"

"After you, Sir William," David said, with a sweeping gesture.

"Oh, no, I insist, King David."

"Well, then, as King, I must ask you to be the first so that if an enemy chooses to make me as a target…you'll be the _first_ in line of fire!" he said.

"I pray thee, that a king should be so cruel," Will mourned. "And I, but a lonely jester, must be made a fool in his presence."

"Oh, don't make me the exception, Sir William. You're the fool in everyone's presence!"

"I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should be so perfidious!" Will said.

"Oy! Quit arguin' like a pair of ninnies and get a move on! _I'll_ be first, and hang anyone who so much as argues with it!" Grandfather grumbled, and he marched right past them and disappeared down the path.

David stared at his brother in amazement as Hector dodged both of them and trotted off down the trail after John Granger, Neenie holding onto his hand.

"Dost mine ears deceive me? Did I just hear my fool of a brother quote _Shakespeare_?" he marvelled.

Will stroked his chin, deep in thought. "To punch or not to punch…_that_ is the question."

He set off down the trail, David behind him.

It was considerably darker under the cover of trees, without the sun to show them the way. Thick brambles snagged at their clothes, and Hector had to lag behind trying to untangle Hermione's hair from a particularly thorny twig.

When Hector and Hermione finally caught up with the others, the conversation was back to centering on Will. "And what if she refuses to let me in? Am I just going to stand on their doorstep while you eat?"

"Of course not. If she won't let you in the house, she'll probably want you off the yard, too. So you'll have to stand out in the street while eat." Grandfather argued.

Will rolled his eyes.

"Will, it was more than a year ago, and you were _drunk_! Rebecca doesn't hold grudges----" David said.

Grandfather interrupted with a grin. "Of course, I'm quite certain that Sebastian does!"

"----_And_ she certainly wouldn't go so far as to kick you out of her house----"

"----Though, again, that _might_ be something Sebastian would do!" Grandfather finished.

Will glared at his father. "You're not helping!"

"I think that the point David is trying to make is that a lot of things have changed since then," Hector said.

"Yes, a lot of things have changed," Will muttered, "She's probably married by now, or seeing someone, or----"

"_If_ she is, which I highly doubt, then there's nothing you can do about it, so you might as well drop it," David warned.

"To hell with 'there's nothing I can do about it'! I can --- I can --- take her fiancé and bash his head in…or --- or --- kidnap her dogs and write her a note to say that if she doesn't marry me, I'll --- I'll----" Will thought furiously, with a glint in his eyes.

"You'll blackmail her into liking you again?" David snorted. "Why, that's a brilliant way to get on her good graces!"

In the front, Grandfather rolled his eyes. He was about to remark as well on Will's grand statement, when he heard something. He stopped abruptly and felt Will slam into him in the darkness.

"Ouch," Will said. "Have you forgotten how to walk, Dad?"

"What's the hold-up?" David asked, peering around Will to look at his father.

"Dad's forgotten how to walk. You see, Dad, it's easy. All you have to do is lift up your foot and----"

"Quiet, you blundering fool! Don't you hear it?" Grandfather snapped.

In the back, Hector perked up his ears. Faintly, he could hear the tinkling of a soft melody winding its way down the path. The tune was very comforting, and he knew that if there could be words, they'd tell of lullabies and a far away place he missed very much…

In his arms, Neenie gasped as she, too, was able to hear it. "Pan! Pan! I hears it! It's purdy…it'sa bery purdy song, Pan!"

Grandfather peered through the growing darkness ahead of him, muttering softly, "And where should this music be? In the air…or in the earth…"

A look of wonder on his face, he surged ahead once again. David and Willglanced at each other before following him. As they walked, they seemed to be getting closer to whatever it was that was making this enchanting melody. The path widened, the trees weren't as dense, more light was shining through the foliage above them. Then----

"Hoy! Boatswain!"

In the very back, Hector grinned at John Granger's shout.

"Here, master! What cheer?" he called back.

"I see a light up ahead!" The joy in the old man's voice was evident.

David grinned. Will groaned. Neenie giggled at the pair of them.

They all turned the corner, and came to a gate. Beyond that gate was an overgrown yard with trees, shrubs, and hedges growing in every corner. A garden of bright, colourful wildflowers lay on the side of the house, where ivy vines were creeping up the walls, peering into shutters, sneaking into the small chimneys on the roof.

The house itself loomed dark and gloomy, but for the bright lights flickering on the ground floors --- Hector thought it was for that very purpose that the two keepers of this house wanted it to be as bright and cheerful as possible. It was quite big for a cottage, with two floors and, quite possibly, a large cellar and attic attached. Its hue was an earthy brown, with the shutters over the windows having a darker tint, and the shingles on the roof as black as the army of crows flying high overhead.

Just above the door on the porch, a large sign hung, almost as weathered as the house itself. Hector peered at it, and when he could make out what was written on it, a chill went down his back. For there, engraved on the front in large, bold lettering:

_**THE HOUSE OF SHYLOCK**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Author's Note**: I'm sure there a few lines in there you all could spot that aren't mine, now, can't you? I disclaim Grandfather's song, yet again, and the line often quoted by our dear Anne Walsh. Not to mention the usual Shakepeare quotes. _

_I hope you all liked this chapter. I can never tell if you do unless you leave me a review, you know! And just a warning: the next few chapters will be coming along at a faster pace than usual...the better to get to the climax, my dearies...and to those things more interesting...unless you don't want me to rush at all? Would you rather I take my time, like I have been doing? (Though it is rather frustrating, isn't it, my patient ones?) _

_Did you like the name of the street the Shylocks live on? But they aren't the only ones who live there. Soon, you'll find out that a couple by the name of---_

_Oops. Almost gave it away, didn't I? Must be careful. That's almost as bad as telling you that the name of the street that the village park is on is called---_

_Oh, dear. Nearly gave it away again. I'll shut up now. However! I _can _tell you that the next chapter will be called...(drumroll, please, and try to refrain from rolling your eyes)...__"The House of Shylock"! And we'll be one step closer into figuring out who the three figures in Neenie's drawing are..._

_Oh, yes...and thanks goes to both Whydoyouneedtoknow and Madm05 for their takes on the otters' revenge. Did you like?_


	9. The House of Shylock

"_There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair an house, good things will strive to dwell with't."_

_---- Miranda, Act I, Scene II, _**The Tempest**

_**

* * *

**_

THE TEMPEST

_**

* * *

**_

--- The House of Shylock ---

**_A _**fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting brilliantly warm light over the current occupants of the House of Shylock. Though it was not quite winter, the autumn evenings were getting chillier by the night, and this ancient house's only heating system included firewood and an axe.

There were two armchairs set by the fireplace, and both of them were currently occupied, as was the rug on the floor. Two thin, greying dogs snoozed fitfully, feeling the peaceful content of the evening. They hardly raised a head when one of their masters lifted up his instrument and began to play. In the two years that they'd known him, they'd become quite accustomed to his loud ways…why, even in the still of the night he had to be off making some noise or another. Truth be told, of course, the soft and gentle melody he was fingering now was better than some.

He was a giant of a man, with the curliest head of hair a man ever saw, and the brawns and brain to match. He had large hands and even larger feet; sharp ears and wide, black eyes. He had a humongous torso that draped over his large armchair quite fittingly, and strong, muscular arms, most often seen swinging an axe, or lifting large crates, or wrestling men. The very arms, in fact, which had known the sheer force of labour, the two- hundred-pound burden, and the bone-breaking exertion of the Bristol Docks.

The two arms in particular which were now holding a small, quaint pan-flute.

In the other armchair, his sister never even looked up when a high tune reached her ears as his quick fingers danced across the little holes. True, she was more used to it than her two greyhounds were, having had to live with him much longer. But at this moment, not even havoc and chaos could rip her away from the delicious book in her hands.

They were certainly going to try, though.

A loud knock came at the door. The two dogs' heads came up as one and they stared at it, just as the man reached a trilling note. He cut off abruptly and looked at his sister in puzzlement. "Now who could that be?"

She tore her eyes away from her novel and met his gaze. "It…it's not Alonso or Claribel, is it?"

"I dunno," he answered. "I'll go see."

He set down his pan-flute with a sigh, staring at it wistfully before getting up. _Sorry, Ariel. But I'll return…you'll have me finishing your lullaby soon. Patience, my dear, is a virtue._

He would have laughed at the idea of talking to such a silly object, had he not done it every day.

The front door banged again and he moved quickly around the armchair, his sister's dogs following him.

"Hang on, will you? I'm coming, I'm coming!"

* * *

Hector's first thought when the man opened the door was that Will had every right to be scared. The man was huge! Hector'd never seen another man as tall or as strong as this man before…besides one other being, that is, who --- for want of nicer terms --- seemed to have cheated humanity. 

His second thought came after the man had looked at them all for a second, then beamed. 'Beamed' was exactly the right word for it, because he seemed to have stolen all the sun's light and stored it in that broad face of his, ready to let it all out on a moment's notice.

Then, just as the man opened his mouth to speak, Hector's third thought appeared, in the form of a warning.

_I'd better plug my ears._

The next few minutes were harrowing ones. After he had given an uproarious shout, Sebastian --- Hector could only assume this was he --- gave them all a bone-crunching hug as he ushered them inside.

"By _George_!Rebecca, it's the Grangers'!" he shouted.

"I could only imagine," said a dry, female voice behind him. "Who else would have you vociferating like a gorilla?"

Rebecca entered the hall, and there was another round of hugging, though it was considerably less rowdy than before. The amazed expression never left Rebecca's pretty face as she moved through them all, even, to his surprise, Hector.

When she reached Will, his grin slid off, and he looked at her tentatively. For a minute, they just stared at each other. Then a sad, small smile appeared on her face. "Welcome back, Will," she said, and gave him a soft hug.

Hector had never been surrounded by a livelier group of people. They shouted, they laughed, they wrestled --- Sebastian winning every time, of course --- they joked, they bragged, they boasted, they argued…

_These people have been apart far too long!_ he thought wryly.

In his arms, Neenie watched all with alarm. At first, she was frightened of Sebastian; when he came towards her, arms outspread, she screamed at him and buried her face in Pan's neck. This, of course, made Sebastian boom out with laughter, and he walked away, chuckling, "Always their first response…scare 'em all shitless, I do!"

Hermione's reaction to Rebecca, however, was far different. "She's purdy!" Neenie whispered to Pan, and he had to agree with her. Rebecca Shylock was young and beautiful, with violet eyes and the darkest hair. Unlike her brother's unruly curls, her raven locks fell straight down her back in the glossiest sheen. As she headed toward them, her eyes alight, Hector noticed that she danced, rather than walked.

"Oh, _David!"_ she breathed, a hint of a Scottish accent in her voice. "She's got so big! And those big, brown eyes…they're to die for!" She brushed Neenie's hair away from her face. "Hullo, Neenie! Do you remember me? I'm your Aunt Rebecca!"

Hermione smiled back, shyly, "Hi, Becca!"

David came over to them and grinned at his daughter. "Oh, and this is Hector, Dad's new boat hand."

"_Pandaemon_ Hector," he corrected, sticking out his hand to her. "But you can just call me Hector. These blockheads do."

She beamed. "Oh! So you know what they're good for, eh? It's a pleasure to meet you, Pandaemon Hector! I hope you turn out better than all these ones did!"

David laughed.

Hector looked closely at Rebecca. "You're a librarian, aren't you?"

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am!" she said, beaming.

In his arms, Neenie squealed. "Doggies! Two doggies, Pan! Wants to pet them, pwease? Wants to bery much!"

"_Pan?"_ Rebecca asked.

"Whatever works." Hector set Neenie on her feet, and the two dogs loped around her, barking enthusiastically and reaching over to lick the little girl's face. With both dogs trying to reach her at once, Neenie toppled over, shrieking and giggling at the same time.

"Trinculo! Stephano! Behave, boys. You don't want to be locked in the cellar again, do you?" Rebecca reprimanded. The dogs cowered before her, and resumed their play with Neenie more gently.

David gaped at her. "_Trinculo and Stephano_?"

"Yes, I named them after _The Tempest_, David, I'm not completely illiterate!" she said, a smile creeping on her face.

"I could never dream of mistaking you for such, my dear!" he said, and grinned as well. "Trinculo and Stephano…the Jester and the drunken Butler…"

Rebecca beamed with pleasure.

"Oy, Beck! What about that food, eh?" Sebastian roared across the room. "Chickens don't cook themselves, you know!"

"Ay!" she retorted. "One could tell just by looking at ye, Bass!" But she headed towards the kitchen just the same, a wistful look over her shoulder.

Grandfather caught on immediately. "Will! Why don' you join her? Lass could use help in the kitchen!"

His older son glared at him, then with a sharp nudge from David, he grimaced. "Er, yes…I…I think I'll do just that," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "_I_ am an expert on messing up some gruel…in fact, some might call me a rival of Clement Snowe, himself!"

David snorted.

They watched as Will followed her into the kitchen, relieving her of a large pot. Sebastian leaned in close to Grandfather, "He's terrible, isn't he."

It wasn't a question.

"Depends on how you define 'terrible'. At age nine, 'e was decoratin' his own birthday cake and mistook pepper for sprinkles. When 'e was fifteen, 'e decided to make scrambled eggs for Christmas breakfas'. You know what 'e did then? Burnt the lot of 'em. Those eggs were as hard as bricks and as black as obsidian…thought we were having coal for breakfas'!"

Sebastian laughed, and Grandfather proceeded to tell him every single one of Will's cooking mishaps…something that took quite a while to tell, Hector soon discovered.

* * *

Will watched her as she got out the ingredients for her famous shepherd's pie. He had to ask her…he had to know…but she seemed determined not to look at him. 

"Rebecca…" he began.

"Could you hand me the ground fennel and coriander from that cupboard, please?" she said, bustling around him.

He obliged, looking into her face. Her eyes were cast down and she seemed intent on the task at hand: peeling the potatoes.

_Probably wishing they were me…never been scalped before, but it's got to be better than this silence… _

"Rebecca…please say something," he said.

"And what is it you would like me to say, Will?" she snapped. "Pass the Kosher salt."

"Where is --- oh. Here." He handed it to her, then continued, frustrated. "I just…need to know what you're feeling. Are you mad at me? Do you want me to do something? I haven't --- we haven't talked for a year, Becca. How can I make that right?"

She pulled out a long, sharp knife from the drawer and started attacking the potatoes with a viciousness that made Will flinch. "You want the truth, Will?" she said savagely. "You _really_ want to know what I'm feeling right now?"

_Say no, say no, say no, say no…_

"Yes."

"You asked for it," she said, turning on him, the knife still very much in her hand. "Needless to say, Will, I'm mad. But you know what? I'm not mad about that night! _That_ is what is so hilarious! I'm not mad that you got drunk on our only date together. Or that you dragged me onto the stage in front of hundreds of people! I really couldn't care less that you shouted my name to England, along with the words '_love' _and '_shag' _and _'I'm going all the way with her tonight!'" _

Will grimaced, her voice mimicking his slurred tone ringing in his ears. He couldn't remember much from that night, but what he could remember --- and what he read in the papers the morning after --- had not been pretty.

She continued on with her rant, slowly advancing on him. "I'm really not that mad, about that, Will! No…I know you were drunk when you said those things, and so, therefore, can't really account for them that much. I _despise_ the way you kept lifting that bottle, driving you into that stupor, but once you were gone…you were gone."

Will could swear that everyone in the next room could hear her every word --- no, hang that. He was sure everyone across the Channel was straining his or her ears, closed door or no.

Rebecca continued, wrath alight in her every feature.

"The thing that really _pisses_ me off, Will, is not what you did that night…it's what you did _after_! I tried ringing you. I tried writing you, to let you know in some form or another that _I forgave you! _That I really couldn't care less what the world thought of us! That they could write about me as much as they wanted to; that they could slander me, misuse me, foul me up! _I didn't care_! But when I needed _you_ most, Will, _you weren't bloody there_!" she screamed.

And then Will understood. The fury in her eyes he'd seen earlier was just a mask, hiding the part of her that refused to be seen…especially by him.

"I can't believe I was actually _worried_ when you didn't pick up, Will! Irang your work, they said you quit! Irang David, he said he hadn't seen you since you wrecked his car, and to be frank, _he didn't give a rat's arse where you were! _I called your neighbours, your landlord, your bar friends, the guy who cut your hair, the woman who cleaned your place, the guy you only hung out with on Thursdays, your _grandfather_, Will!I was frantic! For all I knew, you could have been dead! _And now I wish you really were!"_

Tears were streaming down her face now, and Will felt completely useless. He'd never heard any of this before, and it shocked him what she'd been through. But she wasn't done yet.

"After three months, Will, _three months_ of searching, of thinking you were dead, I finally found someone who knew where you were." She broke off, the disgust in her voice clearly visible. "I don't suppose you'd remember Francine, now would you, Will? No…you've probably slept with all of London by now, how couldyou remember? But Francine remembered you, Will…oh, yes, she remembered you _very_ well…right down to the _Rebecca _that you had tattooed on your chest, in fact!"

_Oh, shit._

" 'Oh, shit' is quite right, Will." Her voice was low and dangerous, and Will didn't even have time to fathom her mind-reading abilities. He was bloody grateful she wasn't yelling now…but even if the men in the other room couldn't hear them now, the tone she was now using and the look in her eyes was deadly all by itself.

"She told me a number of things. Like what street your apartment was on, and how soft your bed was, and what your bloody _pillow _smelt like! And though I had been searching for you endlessly for three solid months, Will, at that point, I didn't _care _where you've been, what you were doing, who were you sleeping with. I didn't _care _that you were alive --- in fact, I remember hanging up the phone and cursing you to hell! All I wanted was to _never_ see you again."

Will stared at her. He was frozen, he couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to. He was astounded, shocked beyond all total belief at what she had said…but what shocked him most of all he didn't find in her voice. Her words shouted pure hatred, but her eyes were streaming with tears of lost hopelessness…and her next words made him realize why.

"I wanted to hate you, Will," she sobbed. "I wanted to hate you _so_ much that it wasn't until you had walked in that door, with your father and brother beside you, that I realized I…I _couldn't_! I'd spent so much time loathing you that when I needed to hate you the most, I'd run all out of it! I couldn't _hate_ any more! I wanted to be the one to bring you down in complete darkness, to show you what it felt like to lose your heart…but then I saw your face, and you looked as though I'd stolen your soul, and I couldn't help it, Will! I said those words…I smiled at you…I hugged you…and I realized that I _forgave _you! After all you'd done…to me, to your family…I realized that it didn't matter any more! All that mattered, really, was that you were here and that you wanted me!"

Will wasn't quite sure how it happened. All he knew was that he was holding her, she was clinging to him, and that knife had mercifully fallen to the floor. How could it be that after everything she'd said --- everything he'd done --- _she_ was the one forgiving _him_? It was so wrong…but this feeling felt so right. And he never wanted to let go.

On the stove, the potatoes boiled unheeded.

* * *

Hermione finally disengaged herself from Stephano and Trinculo and headed directly for the bookshelf. As David went over to join her, Pan's attention was drawn to the flute on the arm of Sebastian's chair. 

"Is this --- this isn't --- what I think it is…is it?" he asked, amazed.

Sebastain followed his gaze and grinned. "Yep, it's a pan-flute. They're quite uncommon, nowadays, you know."

"Yes, I know! Where'd you get her?"

"A…very _old_ friend gave her to me a few years ago, and I've been playing her ever since," Sebastian said.

"Her?"

"I've christened her Ariel. She comes with me everywhere, Ariel does. We're the best of friends!"

"So _this_ is what we heard on the way here," Hector said softly, fingering the gentle copper tones, the tiny holes, and the differently cut reeds.

"You can play her, if you like," Sebastian offered.

Pan raised Ariel to his lips, hesitated, and then blew. A beautiful tone flowed from her, a sweet and soft B. Everyone in the room turned to look as more tones joined the first.

_He plays like a natural! _Sebastian thought as he watched Hector play a small ditty, mouth moving up and down Ariel, blowing into the different holes. The boathand's face was changing from doubtful to peaceful.

Across the room, someone else was settling into the blissful content of the sound. She fingered the ancient tomes, with their faded golden lettering and thick pages.

"Be very careful, Neenie. These are very, very old and we don't want them to tear, do we?" David said softly, kneeling next to her.

"_No_," she whispered. "I's be _bery_ careful, Daddy!"

Her face was alight with an odd glow David had only seen on her face in association to books. She caressed the spine of an old dictionary with a small finger. Then her hands touched each book in turn, as carefully as she could so as not to disrupt their heavy, dusty silence.

When her hands made their way up to the shelf above, they felt newer, bigger books. At her daddy's nod, she tried with all her might to tug one off the shelf. Onto the floor it tumbled, and opened to a page of colours. Hermione quickly lay down on her little tummy, staring at the pages, entranced.

David had seen the title as it fell – _Maps of Great Britain and Its Surroundings. _He chuckled and went to join the group of men. "_That_ will keep her busy for a while…" he told them.

And it did.

After half an hour with the Shylocks' books, David finally managed to steer Neenie away and help him set the table. She carefully studied the silverware in her hands, then gravely separated the spoons, butter knives, and forks, placing the set of three beside each plate.

In almost no time at all, Will and Rebecca presented dinner with twin, satisfied smiles.

Sebastian eyed the shepherd's pie and chicken stew shrewdly. "You didn't poison this, did you?"

"Now, why would we poison _you_, Bass? You are placed so fondly in our hearts," his sister replied sweetly.

Sebastian took one glance at her and ever-so-politely pushed his plate away. "May I take a cheque?"

Rebecca chuckled. "You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Does this mean you'll skip desserts as well and head straight up to bed like a good little boy?"

"Nay. You shall not have the pleasure of demeaning me, woman. I'll eat your detestable food, if it be my last!"

"Fat chance of that, you pig!"

The conversation took a more well-mannered turn after that, and while Grandfather, David, Hector, and Rebecca were otherwise engaged, Will leaned towards Sebastian.

"Who wants to bet a pound David touches the stew first?" he muttered.

"Why, d'you spike it?"

"Well if spikes include a half-cup of baking soda, then…yeah."

Sebastian chuckled. "Good way to spoil everyone's dinner, eh?"

"I---I didn't mean to! It just sort of…slipped."

At that second, David spewed out said stew, all over the table.

Will smirked. "One pound for me, then."

* * *

Baking Soda Stew aside, Hector felt quite full and comfortable when he leaned back in his chair. He felt a dog's head descend on his knee under the table, and he absent-mindedly rubbed it. Trinculo moaned in content.

"Who'd have thought that little Becky down the street could make such fine shepherd's pie?" Grandfather mused aloud, making Rebecca blush.

"Oh, I haven't been called that since I was twelve! But, seriously, sir, Cordelia's much better than I am in that regard! By the way, how is she, David?" she said.

"Wishing she were here," he answered ruefully. "But she says hello to everybody, and to tell you that she expects you to come visit her tomorrow! She said she needs female companionship…that she hates hanging around us male loons all the time."

"Did you talk to her, then?" Will asked, confused.

"Yeah, while you were busy banging that baking soda in the pot, actually. She knows not to expect us until quite late…of course, she had a few reminders for Neenie…making sure she gets to bed earlier than usual, and whatnot," David said.

"Incompetent husbands," Will muttered. "Glad I never was one!"

"Just wait, you cad. Sooner or later, you'll string a girl…and when you do, look out!" Grandfather said.

Rebecca slugged him.

"Ouch! Watch that arm, lass…I'm an old man, y'know!" he complained.

"And what makes you think he'll be the one stringing the girl? She might just be the one stringing him!" She smirked. "And 'old man' my nether parts! You could wrestle a shark and still win----"

"This from the mouth of babes!" Grandfather said proudly to his sons.

"----_After_, of course, you've convinced him to fake a good dying scene!"

Will and David roared with laughter at this, which unfortunately made their father target them next. "Yes, well, only a blundering fool wrestles a shark. A genius cons him with witticisms!" he said. "Besides, I raised these two fools, didn't I? An actor and a dentist! Must be good for something…"

"Actually, I was wondering about that. How is it, Will, that you managed to sink from being a free man…to a free man with a job description?" Rebecca teased.

Will looked affronted. "Pardon me, but is this an accusation? Must I make my way elsewhere?"

Rebecca laughed and shoved him playfully. "_You_ once told me that actors were collywobble! That play-acting in front of some flimsy backdrop that looks like something off _Monty Python's Flying Circus _was just some feeble attempt at manhood, you rotten cur!"

"I do! It is! And I'll have you know that I quote Shakespeare in my plays, not Eric Idle, thank you very much!" he said. "Besides, being an actor isn't half as bad as Doctor Dentist over here. He wipes off candy stains for a living!"

"At least it's a profession!" David retorted. "All _you_ have to do hike up your drawers and scream like a ninny!"

"Oi! I only played a girl that one time!" Will said over Rebecca's laughter.

"And you act like one normally the rest of the time! Didn't you play the title male character in _Antony and Cleopatra?"_

"Yes," Will grumbled.

"I rest my case."

Grandfather watched this interchange with obvious merriment. "Come now, William, old boy. Don't let him defeat you that easily!"

"I'm not defeated! I'm just resisting such entertainment until my enemy has more power, is all!"

"Oh, is poor Willy Nilly too embarrassed to admit he lost in front of a girl?" Rebecca cooed.

"No, actually, poor Willy Nilly is not!" he cooed back.

David just sighed in his chair and leaned back. "Ah…how I love victory!"

Across the room, Sebastian was wrapped up in his own victory. He had just succeeded in convincing Hermione to let him pick her up. She so wanted to see the "purdy birdy" that, at that point, she didn't care who held her.

In a large cage that stood at eye level on clawed feet, there was the biggest bird she'd ever seen. It was a livid green macaw, and almost as big as Neenie was herself. She shrunk back in Sebastian's arms as the parrot stretched her wings and cocked her head, staring Neenie in the eye.

_That is…I think she is…this parrot's been blind since I first found her October before last. She could very well be staring at me._

As those white eyes stared into hers, Neenie lost all of her curiosity and whimpered. "Scary, Bass! Scary birdy! Wants down now, wants it bery much! Pwease?"

Sebastian chuckled, but did as she wanted. "There's nothing scary about Sycorax, Neenie! She just wants to be petted, see?"

He lifted the latch and stroked Sycorax's head. To Neenie's amazement, the monstrous bird made a soft growling noise in her throat at her master's touch and closed her eyes.

"Ooh! Like a kitty!" she squealed.

Sycorax's eyes popped open and she stared down at the small girl. Neenie shrank back against Sebastian's legs, before scooping up a handful of toddler courage and running over to her daddy. "Scary! Scary birdy, Daddy! I don't likes scary birdies! They's mean!" she wailed.

David picked her up and tried calming her. "Sshhh…there's nothing scary that can get Neenie now that Daddy's here. You trust Daddy, don't you?"

She hiccupped and nodded into his vest.

"And Daddy trusts his little queen to be a brave girl and say sorry to the birdy. She didn't mean to be mean, after all. And I bet that you looked mean to her, too, for running away like that."

"But Neenies aren't mean, Daddy! They's huggy and cuteses!" she pleaded.

"Why so they are! But birdy doesn't know that…why don't we go show her? Will you do that if Daddy's with you?" he asked the bundle in his arms.

"Yes, Daddy," she said. "I cans bery much!"

David sauntered over to the cage, and Neenie peeped out with curiosity once more. Birdies didn't mean to be scary, Daddy said. And this birdy thought _she_ was scary! She giggled. Silly birdy!

"Hallo, birdy! Hallo, purdy birdy!" she murmured, trying to get Sycorax's head to come out from under her wing. "Neenies aren't scary, birdy. Neenies are huggy…are you huggy, too, birdy? Like Neenies are?"

Sebastian laughed at her. Sycorax lifted her head and peered at her with sightless, white eyes, but this time Neenie didn't shrink back. She turned to Sebastian. "Can I hugs her? Pwease, Bass? Pwease?"

"Nope. Sorry, tyke, but she wouldn't like it. Not everyone's as friendly as you, you know!"

Hermione pouted.

Meanwhile, over at the hearth, Will mimicked his niece's expression. Beside him, Hector and Rebecca were talking earnestly about children, and he felt…left out. It hadn't been so bad when Dad left, claiming about needing to take a leak, but Will'd now been trying to engage Rebecca in conversation for five minutes, and it wasn't working.

"…Yes, yes, I know. You see, I work at the village library, and you wouldn't believe how many times they've come up to me, clamouring for that series! It really helps children in reading at a more advanced level… it's so vivid in wording, and the characters are so precise and refreshing! I wish I could have had those books when I was younger!" Rebecca was saying.

"Oh, you're a librarian, Rebecca?" Will cut in.

"Yes, but didn't you know? Hector asked me that first thing when he came in. Said I had a look of 'distinct _belles lettres'_ about me, didn't you, Pan?" she said fondly.

_Great! _Will scowled. _Not only is she repeating his praise, but glowing from it as well! Not to mention the "_Asked me that first thing when he came in"_ part…can you say _"Will is a bloody idiot" _in so many syllables?_

Thankfully, at that moment, Grandfather, David, and Sebastian appeared with a proposition.

"We propose," David began, "That we all stop by the park before heading back to the boat----"

"Yacht."

"----_Boat! _All in favour please show by the uplifted right hand," David said. He counted five, including himself. Plus one left hand and one thumb in a mouth.

"Right then! The park it is! What d'ye say to that, Neenie?" Grandfather asked, tickling the girl in question.

She squealed, but didn't take her thumb out of her mouth.

"Wait, wait, wait just one horn-honking minute, now, would you? David. Didn't Cordelia say '_no parks_'?" Will asked his brother.

"Will. There are_ six_ of us," David said, with an air of great patience. "That's more than enough to take care of any little Neenie-tyrants running around. What could possibly happen at the park?"

* * *

_**Author's Note: **As David says, what could posibly happen at the park? I suppose we just won't find out until chapter ten, "Godric's Hollow". The evening is winding down to a close, my friends, and soon the Grangers and Shylocks must say goodbye and part...but must _we_?Just two more chapters to go until things start spewing over, and this next chapter will introduce a few people who I'm sure you'll recognize, however disguised they are._

_Sorry you couldn't read this chapter on Wednesday, anyway. That's when I finished it and sent it to my beta, and then there I was, waiting two days for her to send it back, until I realized that my stupid computer never sent it to her at all, even though it said it did. So, although this is later than both you and I would have liked, it's what you get. Hope you enjoyed it. Care to tell me how much?_


	10. The Ghost of Godric's Hollow

"_Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause (so have we all) of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss: our hint of woe is common…but for the miracle, I mean our preservation, few in millions can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh our sorrow with our comfort."_

_---- Gonzalo, Act II, Scene I, _**The Tempest

* * *

**

_**THE TEMPEST

* * *

**_

_**--- The Ghost of Godric's Hollow ---**_

**_L_**ily Potter knew that there were worse things than being in hiding. Of course, having an evil sorcerer after her only son didn't improve the situation…nor did hiding from the world she'd come to call her own. But she knew that life could be worse than what she was living now.

_And I have James. I could never have done anything without him._

She watched as her husband wrestled their child into a pile of fallen leaves. Harry's infectious laughter and James' low chuckles filled the evening air. They were at the park…had been for quite some time, in fact, and still the boys weren't tired of it.

_It's been so nice getting out of the house. Heaven knows Harry needed it, he's been cranky all day. And James…_Lily shook her head, chuckling. _Well, he's like a kid himself most of the time. If I didn't know better, I would think he has actually enjoyed being in hiding. He's certainly got a lot closer to Harry…he hated being gone all the time when he was an Auror…_

To her left, the sun was just sinking below the trees, casting a bright amber glow over Godric's Hollow. A few people were still bustling around the streets on their way home, but here on Snidget's Corner, the Potters had the park to themselves.

_Ha! 'Snidget's Corner'…for the life of me, I'll never understand how Bowman Wright got a hold of this place. Wasn't exactly subtle, was he? It's a miracle the Muggles haven't figured it out yet. Let me see. _She frowned, trying to remember. _There's a Broomstick Knob, Queerditch Street, _Bludger _Street, the recently added Dumbledore Boulevard…not to mention Gryffindor Lane!_

_What'll they think up next?_

Quite a number of wizards and witches lived in Godric's Hollow, around ten percent of the island's population, as her husband often informed her. There was just something about the history that attracted them here…

_Of course, they've got to keep a low profile…but how low-key can you get, exactly, with names like these?_

But names weren't the only things that caught wizards' and witches' attentions. According to the legend surrounding Godric's Hollow, the ghost of Bowman Wright still wandered this place. Muggles only half-believed it, of course. Only the wizarding folk knew it was real, on account of the many times they had exchanged a polite "How do you do?" with him in the market place.

_The Ghost of Godric's Hollow, _she thought. _It does have a nice ring to it, actually._

…_But there are more ghosts of the past in people's heads than in spirit form, wandering the earth…_

Lily knew that this was only too true. She had been haunted many-a-night by nightmares and images that wouldn't be half as scary if they hadn't really happened…

_I can't think about that right now…I can't, I can't…_

She went back to her _Witch Weekly, _and turned to the more sensible pages (_if anything sensible ever does get put in here, that is)_. As luck would have it, they were found at the very back. A crossword puzzle was squashed in between last week's answers and a column marked _The Do's and Don'ts of Transfiguring Your Ex-Boyfriend's Owl._

_Hmm. Maybe not._

She was vaguely aware of her husband coming over. He plopped onto the bench and arranged himself so his head was on her lap and his legs were dangling over the side. "It's hard work keeping that kid entertained," he complained.

"Mm…" she said. "What's he doing now?"

"Playing in the sandbox. Why do you read this thing, anyway?"

"Just make sure he doesn't put it in his hair, I'd never be able to get it out. And we've been living as Muggles for a year, James; I _do_ like to know what's going on in the other world every now and then, whether it's rubbish or not," she replied.

James squinted up at the magazine above his head. "'_Bored of your pale complexion? Learn how to colour your eyebrows in just three simple steps!'_" he read, and snorted. "I guess these people don't know that if you colour your eyebrows green, the rest of your face looks green too, then!"

Lily grinned, "And you would know, wouldn't you? How long did it take you to learn the counter-curse, again? _Three_ hours?"

James grimaced at her smug voice. Did she have to rub it in? That wasn't the only time he'd got in the way of her curses…the ones the whole school knew were meant for his body only. "It was two-and-a-_half_, I'd have you know," he grumbled. "And it sure didn't take _you '_three simple steps'! I had time to blink, and that was it."

"Why, thank you. Your hex wasn't half-bad, either. Of course, it would have worked better if you hadn't missed. What's an eleven-letter word for 'regurgitating fowl'?"

"Jobberknoll. And I didn't miss --- I nicked you!"

"James…you nicked a _single_ strand of hair," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Very frightening when it started moving on it's own accord, I'm sure. And what _is _this word? 'Often used as a splint'? They could mean a broom…"

Now it was her husband's turn to roll his eyes. "You can't use a broom as a splint, Lil! It's…it's…unethical! Try _ferula._"

"Ooh…thanks. Anyway," Lily continued. "That was nothing compared to what I did to you in 4th year! Do you remember, James?"

"Did you think I could forget? For a boy with black hair --- such as myself --- it's kind of hard _not_ to when he goes around school without the slightest clue that he has a white strip down the middle of his head!" He said, and then moaned when she dissolved into laughter. "I couldn't show myself for days! I looked like a bloody skunk for a week! _And_ was a right little laughing stock for months after!"

"It _was _hilarious, James, you have to admit that! Poor you, though…of course, you did deserve it, but maybe it was mean of me not to give you the counter-curse…after five days, didn't McGonagall finally take pity on you and take it off?" She asked.

"_Yes_," he mumbled, clearly not keen on discussing it any further.

" 'Not-quite-famous King of Woodcroft'" Lily read. "Hmm…you don't suppose it's Benwick, do you? But no…I think he was from France, not Woodcroft…"

"How many letters?"

"Seven. Could be Mordred…but he never became king, did he?"

"I think it's Hengist. But he later did become famous for finding Hogsmeade, didn't he? So would he count?"

"I think so…it just says that he was 'not-quite-famous' for being a _king_. He didn't become famous, per se, until after, and for a totally different reason…"

"Oooh, and _who_ has been paying attention to Binns?" James said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughed. "You _are_ a git, you know that?"

"Of course. You only tell me twenty times a day, how can I not?"

"A prat, as well."

"Bint."

"Wanker."

"Slapper."

"Potter."

"Evans."

At that moment, a babble of voices met their ears and they looked up to see a merry group of people entering the park. The oldest one of the lot roared out, "Sebastian, you prig! Do you always think with your brawns instead of your brains?"

A large bloke said something that the Potters couldn't hear and the group chuckled again.

Lily brightened. "Oh! It's the Shylocks, James! But I wonder what they're doing here…they don't have any children…" she wondered, whispering to him.

As if in answer, the bundle in the youngest man's arms started squirming to get down. "Pan! Pan! Pan!" cried a little girl's voice, and she grabbed the young man's finger and started dragging him to the slides.

James chuckled as they watched the girl with the wild brown curls boss the young man into doing exactly what she wanted. "Headstrong, that one," he said.

The Shylocks turned towards them when they heard his voice, noticing the couple for the first time. Rebecca made a small sound in between a gasp and a squeal. She grabbed the hand of a black-haired man Lily had never seen before and started to drag him towards the Potters' bench, not unlike what the smaller girl had done a moment before.

"Rebecca! Sebastian! How good to see you again!" Lily exclaimed, standing up to greet their friends, while her husband's head went _clunk _on the bench behind her. "What are you doing here at this time of night?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Rebecca said, grinning at James who'd just stood up, rubbing his head, "Oh, and these two are very good friends of ours, from the mainland. We haven't seen them in a year…I was ecstatic to find they'd dropped by! This is David Granger, he and his wife are dentists in Brownsville…and this is his father, Captain John Granger, formerly of the Royal Navy!"

The captain in particular glowered at her, but Rebecca didn't seem to notice.

"And _this _scallywag is David's brother, Will," she finished, gesturing to the man hooked on her elbow. "David, Grandfather, Will…_these_ are two of our dearest friends here in the Hollow----"

Lily closed her eyes and lost her hold on reality. _James and Lily Potter…James and Lily Potter, Rebecca, how I wish you could say it!_

"----Alonso and Claribel Napoli. They live just down the road from us, and Clare and I have become quite close these past couple months…" Rebecca trailed off, knowing that someone was missing. "But…where's Ferdinand?"

"He's over there, playing in the sandbox," James pointed, after he and Lily had forced smiles and shook the Granger men's hands in turn. Sebastian, as usual, just winked at them.

Rebecca pulled Lily aside as the men launched into a conversation of their own. "So how have you been, Clare? You haven't been coming to the library nearly as often as you used to, and every time I see you, you just seem…depressed."

_Oh…how I wish you knew, Rebecca Shylock. But what can I say? "Yes, I am quite depressed, thank you, and by the way, Claribel Napoli really isn't my name, nor am I at all who I say I am!"_

Lily knew that she could never say those words…nor did she really want to, in fact. It had always been pleasant to sit in the Shylocks' front room and have tea, like ordinary people did…to laugh about things that had nothing at all to do with a war, a war between two groups of people neither of whom the Shylocks had any inkling even existed.

But Claribel Napoli was depressed for reasons almost unknown to Lily Potter. Claribel Napoli was a Muggle, and so therefore didn't know that there were such things as witches and wizards…she didn't personally know anyone who'd been brutally murdered the past few years, in fact, so the only reason _she _could ever be depressed was because----

"I---I've just been getting allergies, you know. Must be something in the season. Haven't been sleeping well lately, either, come to think of it…I'm sure I've woken up Alonso one time too many in the past week!" she finally said, smiling sadly.

Rebecca Shylock made a sympathetic sound, and at once began to recommend medicines and books that might help, but Lily wasn't listening.

_Oh, Merlin, if only it were just that! If only this could be explained away with the few remedies at hand…but they couldn't help Gideon or Fabian, and they certainly can't help me now…_

She stared at the sinking sun without really seeing it. The sky above was heralding a rainbow of colours, while around her the trees were casting long ebony shadows all over the ground. A deep sorrow rose within her, shaking off the layers of pretence she used to try and hide it.

There was so much evil in the world…so many wrong things happening…and she just wanted it to all end. She was tired of running. She was tired of having to call her son a different name every time they stepped out of their house. She was tired of having to read about more and more deaths every time she opened the paper. Tired of just sitting there, knowing that she had a means to stop this madness…but more frightened at the thought of having to use it…

…Tired of having to look at the dark sadness evident on her husband's face every time his friends dropped by…she knew what he was thinking: _At least_ they_ get to do something about this…and all we can do is hide from it..._

…Tired of doing things by hand all the time…of having to lock away their wands every night…of living a lie…of putting on the same façade every day…of keeping their son away from the world he was born into…of laughing less…of crying more…of being _in hiding!_

Lily wanted to scream, and cry, and laugh, all at the same time. She wanted to take the world and rip it to shreds…she wanted to hug her child and hold him forever, tell him that she would always be there to protect him…and not have it be a lie…

She wanted to watch him grow up…turn into a young man…find his first love…wed his soul-mate…bear her first grandchildren…

…But every time she picked him up, kissed his cheeks, fixed his food, watched him laugh and play, saw him smile, bathed him, clothed him, loved him…tucked him into bed and sang him a lullaby…she feared that this would be the last time she'd ever hold him again. That the next time he ate a meal, it would be because of someone else…the next time he took a bath, it would be with someone else…the next time he was loved, it would be by someone else…

Because deep down inside of her, she had a horrible feeling that something was coming…that_ something_ was about to happen…

…That someone would find them.

_No! _she cried inside, furiously shaking herself back into the present. _You're being foolish, Lily, you're just being a fool. There's no way anyone could ever find us…we're too safely hidden. Not only have we changed names _and_ identities, but the most powerful wizard of our time has performed the means for us never to be found by the ones who wish us harm._

_The Fidelius Charm._

_And our friends would never betray us…we have all been through so much together…nothing could ever break this circle we've created…_

_Remus…dear Remus who's been gone for a month on some top-secret project or another…He's been through so much we could never have made him Secret Keeper…_

_It's a full moon tonight, _she remembered, a pang in her heart. _And James and Sirius and Wormtail can't be with him! Dear, dear Remus…_

_And Sirius! Oh, he's so stupid and stubborn and strong and loyal and…the _best_ Secret Keeper. He would rather die than betray us…and that's what burdens me…_

…_But James was right. He _is_ too vulnerable. Voldemort would have been after him in a second. It's best that it was given to Peter…no one will suspect Peter…Peter who's so earnest and innocent…despite all the trouble we've all run into countless times, he still keeps that air of…_zealousness _about him. It's so very refreshing, and he's such a dear companion to have…_

Thinking of Peter --- or rather, _Caliban_, as James and Lily called him whilst discussing him amongst themselves, in case they were being overheard --- seemed to jolt her back into the present once more, and she was mildly astonished to see Rebecca staring at her.

"What?" she asked guiltily.

"Did you hear anything of what I've said over the past ten minutes?" said Rebecca.

Lily had enough sense to look sheepish as she shook her head.

_But…as a wise man once said…"Few in millions can speak like us…then wisely, good sir, weigh our sorrow with our comfort!" _

* * *

Beside the ladies, the men were having a roaring conversation. David's little girl had finally given the young man a break and drifted over to the sandbox, where she now eyed the little black-haired boy curiously. The young man headed toward the benches and he and James were finally introduced. 

"…And this is my boat hand, Hector…otherwise known as _Pan!_" Captain John Granger said as the young man neared them.

"Alonso Napoli," James said, holding out his hand.

It struck him as very odd how the younger man regarded him warily before slowly shaking his hand in turn.

_Is it just me…or have I seen him somewhere before? _James thought, furrowing his brow. _It certainly was almost as if he thought he_ _knew _me_. But that's impossible…Lily and I are wearing disguises, for one thing…_

It had been by mutual consent that Lily and James had chosen Italian names. He knew that somewhere in his line there was Italian descent, and his black hair, olive skin, and almond-shaped eyes helped a lot. All they had to do was colour his skin to be a few shades darker and change his hazel eyes to a full brown.

With Lily, it was harder because she had to change her hair completely. Her red against his black was a dead give-away, and they couldn't afford to be recognized by any of the wizarding world…especially because they were now living in a village with a fair few of them. Thus, every time they went out, she had to colour her hair a dark auburn, and change her's and Harry's skin to match her husband's…

…And remember that she was Claribel now, her husband was Alonso…and Harry…_their _Harry…was Ferdinand.

_I know she hates living a lie…but she's come to realize that this is what we have to do now to stay alive…for us…but most importantly, for _Harry

_But _where _have I seen him before?_

He went back to studying the man in front of him, who was now laughing at a joke David had said. _Hector…Hector…the name sounds familiar…but that's not saying much, considering how common a name it is. _

_Oh, Merlin's beard, why am I obsessing about this? He was probably just a kid down the street I used to play with when I was younger, is all….yes…that's probably it…_

And he turned back to the conversation at hand.

* * *

The sun sank beneath the trees, ending yet another autumn day. As if by magic, the lanterns suddenly flickered to life and the fairies that danced in the glass bulbs cast pools of light over the ground. 

_They do rather look like fairies, don't they? _Lily thought, staring at the one above her. _That is…those adorable little Muggle-fairies, _not _the ones that I know exist!_

The chattering group in the park knew that they had to part ways --- the two couples to their houses, and the foursome to their boat in the cove. However, one person in particular didn't seem to want the evening to end.

"Oh, but Will, you have to see the statue before you leave…you all have to!" Rebecca cried. "It's just around the corner, it will only take a minute, I promise!"

Will looked at his father who, in turn, looked at David.

"Go ahead," David said. He cast a glance at the sky above, where clouds merged and came together, blocking out any signs of promising stars. "But be quick about it! We should have left an hour ago. I'll stay here with Neenie, I doubt whether I'd be able to pull her away…"

He glanced over to where Neenie was trying to catch fireflies in the gloom. The dancing bugs of light kept flickering in and out of existence, making her giggle uncontrollably as she first chased one…and then another…

In the sandbox watching her, Harry still sat, thumb in his mouth. Every once in a while a low gurgle of laughter came from him and he smiled behind his thumb. He was a shy little boy and didn't entertain easily --- he could be so serious sometimes!--- but the sight of the wild girl dancing in the dark, wild hair flying, entranced him.

His mother smiled.

The other five left, headed for the statue of Bowman Wright. Lily could hear Rebecca begin the story about the metal smith and how, in 1546, he sailed across the Bristol Channel to find the means of helping his people, in the form of a small, golden bird…

Lily watched them leave, wondering to herself why Hector looked faintly amused at Rebecca's tale, and why he looked so familiar…

To her right, James and David, the Muggle dentist, had engaged in conversation once more ("So…a _dentist_, eh?"), and Lily had to laugh quietly at her husband. She knew what Sirius would say about this. The one time he had heard about what Muggle dentists did, he'd looked absolutely revolted and said, "What's so interesting about some bloke who wants to see remnants of last night's chicken?"

_James used to be like that, too…but living a year as Muggles has changed him. For the better, I hope!_

Meanwhile, over by the sandbox, it seemed Harry had finally made a friend. He got up and toddled over to where Neenie was jumping in the air, eyes set on a bug a foot above her. He plopped on his bum and studied her, thumb still in his mouth, green eyes solemn. She ran in zig-zags, shrieking with laughter, around the tree, jumping over a stick on the grass…

…Until she came to a stop right in front of him.

The firefly zoomed away, unheeded, as brown eyes stared into green ones. Then --- Lily had thought David's girl would approach Harry slowly and shyly, but no --- the girl with wild curls gave a smile and opened her mouth.

'_Opened her mouth'_ was Lily's last thought before being completely blown away.

"I's Neenie!" the girl chirruped before launching into a wide-ranged monologue with such stamina that Lily was amazed. She could make out half of the words the girl was saying, and that was it. The rest were beyond her.

_This girl can't be more than two! Where in Merlin's name did she learn this many words? Most two-year-olds couldn't repeat what she's saying, let alone comprehend it…but she…this girl is a walking, talking children's dictionary!_

She became so entranced watching the two children interact that she didn't even hear David coming to sit beside her until he said softly, "Talkative, isn't she?"

Lily could only nod her head in reply. Finally she tore her gaze away and asked, "How old is she? Tell me she's not two!"

David grinned. "She turned two years mid-September, on the nineteenth…she was supposed to be born eighteen days earlier, but the little imp didn't want to abide by rules, apparently…she loved her mother too much!"

She laughed with him, sympathizing. _Two and a half weeks…I thought it would never end when I had Harry, and he was early…but _two and a half weeks

"Your poor wife…" she said. "Eighteen days of torture, I'm sure! I was lucky that my Ferdy was born the day he was due. He was…well…I guess you could say that he was born as the seventh month died. But others aren't quite so lucky as I am…"

_September the first, _she realized. _She would have been born September the first…_

She turned to look at the children, who were now chasing each other around the park; laughing so hard they could barely run. It was when Neenie was chasing Harry around an oak tree that she tripped over a branch and fell. At once, a thin, red line appeared on her chubby knee and Lily half-rose, expecting the girl to burst into tears at any moment.

But they never came.

Neenie traced the cut with her finger, and took it away bloody. She studied the red on her finger for a moment then looked up, worried.

"Mummy?" she called out tentatively. "Mummymummymummy!"

"Come here, Neenie!" said Daddy's voice, and she ran to him.

"Wants Mummy. Wants Mummy for bannage!" she said, and held up her finger, a solemn look on her face.

Daddy pulled her close and kissed her little finger, fighting back a chuckle. It would not do for his Hermione to see her father laughing at her sorrows, after all.

"Neenie's gots booboo," she whispered. "Where's Mummy?"

It almost broke Lily's heart to see the lost look on the little girl's face as David tried to explain it to her.

She heard a child's squeals and looked over to see James throwing Harry up into the air, then catching him. Neenie looked at them enviously, but stayed still in her father's arms as he cleaned her cut.

Lily smiled at her encouragingly, then remembered something and rummaged around her bag, searching for a bandage she knew must be in there…

"Here you are," she said, holding it out to David.

"Why look, Neenie! See what the nice lady gave us? Let Daddy put it on for you…no, silly Neenie, not on your finger…on your knee, see? Be brave, now…be brave for Daddy…_there!" _He kissed his daughter's knee and wiped off the blood on her finger with a handkerchief Lily provided for him. "Now, can you say thank you to Claribel?"

Brown eyes pepped at her through a curtain of tangled curls. A shy, small smile spread across the little girl's face as she said, "_Thank you!"_

Lily laughed. "You're very welcome, Neenie! You were very brave, weren't you? You didn't cry at all!"

Neenie bobbed her head, and her daddy grinned proudly. "She never cries unless it really hurts," he explained. "Well…unless she gets cranky and decides to throw a tantrum, that is…"

Neenie squirmed in his arms and crawled across the bench to Lily. It took a while, considering her poor cut knee, but when she got there, she curled up in Lily's lap and squealed in delight at the sight of the magazine in the woman's hand. "Wead!" she cried. Lily gave her the magazime and Neenie settled closer, opening it with ease and proceeding straight towards the colourful pictures.

In the grass, Harry had toddled back over to the oak tree, a bit dizzy after being thrown so high. His daddy lay in the grass, trying to catch his breath. Harry bent down and started tugging on the branch Neenie fell on. He tried to pick it up, but it was too heavy and he fell on his nappy instead.

Fallen leaves twirled by him, and some landed in his black hair. He raised a hand, confused, and tried to rub them off, but they stuck on. He had another go at the stick and, with both hands, he was able to lift up one end of the stick. He choked on his gurgling laughter.

"Bwoom!" he shrieked, the leaves still attached to his hair.

Lily and James looked at each other, astonished, then laughed with him.

"You want broom? I'll give you broom!" roared James and he leapt up, seized his son, and started zooming him around the park like an aeroplane. Harry screamed with laughter as he soared through the swings, around the slides, under the tree, over Mummy's head…

On her lap, Neenie giggled as the pair of them went past.

"F'ying! He's f'ying, Daddy!" she said.

David watched it all with a slight smile on his face. "You're right, Neenie…he is!"

He looked down at his watch and frowned. "Where _are _they?" he whispered.

But Lily had something else on her mind. She turned to him, her brows furrowed.

"_Neenie_…that's not a very common name, is it, David? Is it short for something?" she asked, fingering the child's curls.

David threw his head back and laughed. "'Not a very common name'! I think that her real name is more uncommon than her nickname, truth be told!"

Lily waited patiently for him to explain, the wind picking up her hair and tossing it about her face. The breeze really was getting stronger, she noted idly, and the sky was moving fast.

"Her full name is Hermione Jane Granger," David said when he'd sobered up. "Now you tell me if that's common or not!"

"_Shakespeare!" _Lily breathed, a smile on her face.

"Kudos to you!" said David, impressed. "Not many people are aware of that fact…they think we made the name up! You could say that I am a fanatic. I have his every volume in my library…but of course, it didn't help matters when I married a woman who had just as much Shakespeare in her blood as I!"

"Why? What's her name?" Lily asked --- she was intrigued. She almost had to laugh at the foolish grin on David's face when he answered, though.

"Cordelia…but that's not the worst of the matter. Her mother's name is Miranda, and she has two sisters by the names of Helena and Gertrude, respectively!" he said.

Lily looked down at the little girl in her lap. Hermione Jane Granger, they called her. _Hermione. _It really was a lovely name, she decided. And with a personality to match!

_Your parents have done you justice, child._

"…And every time I read to her, it's always Shakespeare…she's going to be a bookworm when she grows up, that's for sure!" David continued.

Lily sighed, "The world could use more bookworms. I was one too, when I was younger. Haven't got much time for it now, with my little one."

"Your Ferdinand is a handsome lad…he's going to grow up to charm beauties with that smile!"

"His father charmed _me _with that smile!" Lily said, laughing. "I can only pity the girl who falls in love with Ferdy…may heaven help her!"

David laughed too, but his laughter quickly died. Lily turned to say something to him, but he was looking past her, distracted. "Erm…could you excuse me? It seems they need me for something…" He got up and started toward the other end of the park where Hector was gesturing frantically. "Please! Could you watch Neenie for me? This will only take a minute!"

Lily nodded in answer, but David was already running. She hoped that nothing was wrong…she'd come to like these people although she knew their lives would probably never cross again.

But Hector looked so worried…she couldn't help but finger the tip of her wand, hidden safely out of sight. What if something had happened? And what if they needed more help? And what if…

_What if Hector isn't who he says he is?_

The thought sprung unbidden into her mind…she had no clue where it came from. But now that it was said, she realized how much it made sense.

_I'm not one to go making judgements about people I don't know…but being in hiding and living in fear has taught me one thing, and that is that _no one_ is who they appear to be. There's always something they're hiding…and most of the time, it isn't good…. _

But this didn't mean that he was bad, just because he was hiding something, she knew that. But the truth of the matter was that she had seen him somewhere, and now she knew where…

_I've only been to Knockturn Alley once on Order business…the streets were crowded, filth covered the air…but there's one face I'll never forget. He was hiding in the doorway to a shop…Gilchrist's Ghastly Glyphics, if I remember right…and he had a hood pulled over his face…but I saw enough. However, the company he was keeping was even worse._

_Honestly, can't he do any better than Lucius Malfoy and Patroclus Nott?_

Lily felt bile rise in her throat and she had to choke the disgust down. _But why is he running around with Muggles? And is Hector even his real name…or did he disguise himself so that he could get in with the Grangers? _

_But to kill them? Or…to get to _us?

She felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down. Brown eyes met green for the second time that day, as Neenie --- Hermione --- looked up at her curiously.

"Wha's your name?" she asked shyly.

Lily forced her thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled at the little girl. "It's Lil --- erm, Claribel. And _you're_ Hermione!"

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I's Neenie. Does you like mumbers?"

"Yes, I do!" Lily said. "You're very smart to know about numbers, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded again, looking excited. "And lebbers, too! Wead? Wead pwease? Neenie likes it bery much!"

Lily hesitated, then took the magazine. The face of a black-haired witch with a magenta hat and a sly grin looked up at her underneath the title _Witch Weekly_ scrawled across the top.

_But that's not what she sees, is it?_ she remembered. _All wizarding books, magazines, and newspapers are magically charmed to read something different to the Muggles._ _So Hermione would see the words _The Bristol Woman's Digest_, and a Muggle model on the front page._

"_The Bristol Woman's Digest_," Lily read aloud to Neenie, and was about to read more when she was interrupted.

"Nononono!" Neenie cried, distressed. "Wead! Wead!" She jabbed a pudgy finger on the top of the page.

_But that's not right…_Lily frowned. _The Muggle equivalent of this has those words on the bottom, not the top… _

"What do you mean, Neenie, I _am_ reading," she said slowly.

_She probably just wants me to describe the picture to her…yes…that's it._

"No! Neenie likes lebbers!" Hermione pouted, then leaned forward to point at the cover again. "Neenie knows dis is an eye, an' dis a sea…an' dis one and dis ones are knees!"

It sounded like pure child's talk to Lily. She was probably just pointing to various parts on the model's body…but… _That's funny…on my translation of the magazine, she was pointing at different letters…first an 'I', then a 'C', and then two 'E's…_

Neenie was still talking. "An' dis one's a dub --- dubba----"

"'_W_'!" Lily said for her, then sat up straight. _Eye…'I'…sea…'C'…knees…well, it's a stretch, but 'E's! And a 'W'----!_

"Holy Snitch!" she gasped, hand clamped to her mouth, eyes enormous. She didn't even have time to register the fact that a _two year old_ was actually picking out letters. Nor did it register that this said two year old was now looking at her in alarm, confused as to why she was now on the bench instead of a lap.

Lily's thoughts were on fast forward.

_She's the daughter of two dentists…both of them are Muggle, they have to be…she lives in a well-to-do seaside village…she turned two in September…mid-September, which is important, because that means that she'll be in Harry's year…_

She was barely aware that some time in her ramblings, she had taken Hermione in arms and was looking into that face --- _really_ looking into that face for the first time. She was barely aware of how dark the sky had grown…but it was because of the clouds, not the on-coming night…a storm was coming…

She wasn't even aware of her husband looking around them uneasily, Harry clutched tight in his arms…nor was she aware that the Grangers were now sprinting across the park, fear evident in their eyes.

No…Lily Potter had room for just one thought.

_Hermione Jane Granger is a Muggle-born witch!_

_

* * *

_

_**Author's Note: **Well, the cauldron's brewing, the leaves are falling, the pages are turning, and the storm is coming! The next chapter will pick you up in the whirlwind that's heading your way, and it's called "On All Hallow's Eve". Of course, it could change a bit, like how I changed this chapter's name. It wasn't until I was done with it that I realized I like this better than plain old "Godric's Hollow". But you're not complaining, are you?_

_And look! We're half-way done with our story! Didn't think I'd make it this far, but I'm excited for what's coming next. Are you?_

_Oh, small disclaimer: Whydoyouneedtoknow came up with the name Patroclus for Theodore Nott's father, not me, so praise her. (And I do feel a bit bad because I totally forgot to ask her if I could use that name...but she _is _my beta after all, so I assume it's alright...)_

_And please review! I know this chapter was different, but did you like it, or hate it, or what? And questions! I love questions...especially ones I can't answer because that means you guys are picking up on the good stuff and it will be answered in a few chapters...so please review! I can't write with no reviews, and I do love to write..._


	11. On All Hallow's Eve

_"...You do yet taste some subtleties o' the isle, that will not let you believe things certain..."_

_---- Prospero, Act V, Scene I, _**The Tempest**

_**

* * *

**_

THE TEMPEST

_**

* * *

**_

--- On All Hallow's Eve ---

**_C_**andles flickered across the room, some in the windows, others on the mantle, and still more on the side-tables beside the sofas. Through the open windows there could be heard many little voices shouting and laughing as they pranced through the streets.

Inside number sixteen, Prosper Street, however, there was only one voice proclaiming the laws of the night. Jane Cordelia Granger sat curled up in the squishy red armchair by the fire, a cat on her lap and a book in her hand.

"'_I am forced to tell ye this, miserable dearies, whether I would or no; so mark it well. If ye pray for the dead, they are released sooner from their torment of waiting in Purgatory and sped on the wings of light to their eternal reward.'" _She read aloud in a witch's voice…or as near as said voice as she could muster. Puck the kitten yawned widely and stretched, his claws digging into the fluffy blanket, and orange tail quivering.

Cordelia continued in misty tones. _"'So go and knock and the woman will open to your knock, and sing as loud as ye can: _A soul cake, a soul cake, a prayer for a soul cake!_ She will bear on her arm a basket of cakes and tell ye for whom ye are to pray. And may ye all choke on every crumb and find praying and eating at one and the same time as miserable as the torment I endure forever riding hungry on my broomstick----!'"_

She was interrupted by a gaggle of voices outside the window and a knock on the door. Grinning, she set her bookmark in between the crisp pages, picked up the kitten, threw off the red blanket with golden tassels she'd had from David last Christmas, and got up.

There was another knock, and as she called out "I'm coming!" Puck started purring in her hands, rubbing his bony head against her palm.

"You know, Puck, by the standards of tonight I should be locking you up in Neenie's room…don't want any little sprites to ride away on your back, now, do we?" she asked her daughter's kitten. He looked up at her, eyes half-open in a bemused sort of way as she tickled his chin.

She smirked at his expression. "Of course you do," she said and opened the door.

"Dr. Snowe! Dr. Snowe!" the children shrieked, jumping up and down.

"My, my, what a herd of little goblins, witches, ghosts, and ghouls coming to haunt me this night! You should have warned me you were coming. Do I know any of you, perchance?" Cordelia said, feigning surprise.

There was a round of giggling, and the six monsters hurried to lift up their masks, showing the noses and mouths and eyes of over-excited children.

"It's just us! We're not _really _goblins and witches! We're just pretending, Dr. Snowe! See?" One of the hidden children shouted.

Cordelia tweaked a little blond witch on her green-coloured nose. "Why, so you are!"

"Look, I'm a little hob-goblin! See my green hands? Mummy painted them, and they feel _slimy!_" shouted a small boy in the back, and the others clamoured to win her attention as well.

"I'm a witch! And I've got a long pointy hat, and a real wand, and I'm gonna turn you into a _pumpkin_----!"

"----Well, _I'm _not anything at all! _I _think that dressing up is for babies!----"

"Then how come you look like a git? Oh, wait…that's not a costume, is it?"

"----Thee, Dr. Thnowe? I lotht a tooth dith morning and Mummy theth I can thee you ath thoon ath she'll thet up an appointment----"

"----And it was _awesome! _Say, where's Dr. Granger? We went by your office and there wasn't a spooky maze like what he did last year, and I really, _really _wanted to see it again----!"

"Calm down!" Cordelia laughed over the din. "Honestly, I could barely hear anything! And aren't you guys forgetting one very important thing?"

"Oh, _yeah_! We forgot!" the children squealed, laughing. There was a rummaging as they all brought up their buckets and bags and shouted, "TRICK-OR-TREAT!"

* * *

A lone figure stared at the house of number sixteen, Prosper Street in the small village of Brownsville-on-Somerset, a scowl twisting his features. Noisy kids dotted past him, shouting gleefully, bragging to each other about the goodies in their bags, masks askew. 

_Makes me glad I was never as idiotic as that when I was younger. _

He tried to refrain from rolling his eyes, but didn't quite succeed. It was plain to anyone who could see him (though, of course, no one could) that this man was bored. He'd been staring at the same house for nearly --- he pulled out his pocket-watch --- nine hours, by the looks of it.

_And it is not fun, I can assure you. Doesn't this woman ever _do_ anything? Besides the trip to the market-place this morning with that little brat-girl in tow, and then dropping off those infernal men she hangs around with at the harbour…_

He shook his head, remembering. She had come back from the harbour alone, turned off her furiously vibrating Muggle machine, trotted up the porch steps, unlocked her door and walked in through it, shutting it firmly behind her.

And he hadn't seen her for the rest of the day.

_That is, until all these little beasts starting running around. I forgot all about the foolish Muggle traditions they all put up with…_

A breeze rustled through the side street he was standing it. He shivered slightly and pulled his shimmering silver cloak closer to him. He'd shed his Muggle clothes --- purple vest, tan trench coat, red cowboy hat, and all --- quite some time ago. There was no need to dress at all, really, when you were invisible, he thought.

Every time one of the little brats raced by him, his hand twitched next to his wand. How he longed to send a red streak their way and end this ridiculous shouting.

_Whoever said witches were green anyway? They look horrendous…and I have to watch all this until they're finally through? This could last for hours! _

His only comfort was that when this all ended, and the horrendous children were all tucked in their little beds, he could make his move. "There can be no witnesses!" his superior had said. So now he had to wait.

There were shouts of glee several houses down. He peered around the corner to see several teenaged boys unscrewing the hinges of someone's front door, sniggering.

He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Cordelia stood on her porch, a basket of fruit in hand. 

"And what would you like, Blair, an apple or a pear?" she asked her last customer.

"Pear, pleathe! They're my favoriteth!" the little blond witch said, a gaping hole between her teeth when she smiled.

_They really are adorable, _she thought, looking around at them all. The hobgoblins and ghouls and ghosts were all smacking loudly on their own fruit, not discouraged at all when they weren't given candy.

_We do this every year and they haven't complained so far. I personally think that because they stuff their faces with sweets all night long, they're quite relieved to have something that tastes different and fills them up when they get to our door… _

"Remember, the more you eat tonight, the more cavities you're going to get! And guess who'll only be too happy to fill them all up for you, tomorrow, eh?" she said wickedly, grinning.

The oldest of the lot just scoffed. "Well, _I _like going to the dentist's office, because you're nice when you drill me and it doesn't hurt a single _bit!"_

There was a chorus of "Yeah!" and the kids all nodded.

"And you _tickle _us when our mouths are full of icky spit----"

"----And Dr. Granger likes to wear a clown's nose and he looks FUNNY----!"

"----And you let me hold my puppy when I come in, when that mean guy in Bristol that looks like a weasel _wouldn't_----"

"----And thometime you bring Neenie, and she'th fun to play with----!"

"----And we get sugar-free lollipops when we leave, and even though they're actually good for us, they taste yummy!"

"Oh, I see," Cordelia said gravely. "So you never come to the dentist's office just to see _me_?"

Blair ran forward and threw her arms around Cordelia, pear in one hand, and looked up pleadingly. "_I_ like you, Dr. Thnowe, I really do!" she cried in earnest.

Cordelia chuckled and pat the kiss the top of Blair's witch hat. "Why, so you do. Now be off with you before all the good candies are gone!"

The happy children all became scary little monsters again as they donned their masks and trooped off the porch. Blair hung back. "Where'th Neenie, anyway? Did you dreth her up like a kitty like you thed you were gonna do?" she asked, peering Cordelia and into the living room.

"No…I'm sorry, Blair, but Neenie's spending the day with her father. They still haven't come back yet…maybe next year, though. Then she'll be able to sit still enough for me to paint her face!"

Blair giggled. "Bye, Dr. Thnowe!"

"Goodbye, Blair!"

_I'll be seeing you again soon, I'm sure…_she thought. _It really is adorable, them calling me Dr. Snowe…_

When she and David were married and opened up the practice down the street, it soon became very confusing for everyone to have two Dr. Grangers running around. So a reluctant Cordelia had had to change her name to Snowe-Granger. The little children, however, hated saying such a long name, so to them she was known as Dr. Snowe.

_I really don't mind it all that much, _she thought. _Although 'Doctor Jane Cordelia Snowe-Granger' _is_ rather long…_

She watched Blair run down the walk to join her mother. Mrs. Smethwyck had been waiting near the road, supervising the children on their outing. When her daughter rejoined her, she threw a haughty glare at Cordelia and marched away.

_It's too bad that such a cute little girl has such a snooty woman for a mother._

Cordelia remembered that Mrs. Smethwyck had been one of the women who had been gossiping about her behind her back last week. They were all at the park, and the group were talking amidst themselves, obviously not aware that she could hear.

"…It wasn't good enough for her being the wife of a dentist…oh no, she had to go and be one _herself_!" one of them had said.

Cordelia had flushed back then, but didn't say anything. _Just ignore them…just ignore them, they're not worth it…just ignore them…_

She had prided herself on not answering but, instead, when she and Neenie were ready to leave, she had smiled sweetly at them. "Lovely day, isn't it?" she'd asked innocently. "Oh, and don't forget to swing by the office…I can see that _you_ haven't been very nice to your molars lately!" Then she'd turned up her nose and walked away.

Cordelia laughed, remembering. She reached down and set the empty bowl on the porch next to her various pumpkin lanterns. She and Neenie had spent all day Thursday making them, and Neenie had so much fun pulling out the slimy seeds…

She reached down and started blowing out the candles inside of the hollow pumpkins, their wolfish faces still grinning. It was as she got to blowing out the last one that she realized how dark it was growing…

_Honestly, you _did_ just blow out all the candles, so why wouldn't it be dark?_

But, no…this was different…

She looked up at the darkening sky. A full, yellow moon was perched just above the treetops, the spidery branches cutting through the glow artistically…but this wasn't what had caught her attention…

…Out to sea there were some very wicked storm clouds gathering. The wind was tossing the waves against the harbour boats voraciously, and Cordelia knew that any second now, the bell would start clanging for all boats at sea to head back.

_Oh no…oh no, oh no, oh no…_

She knew how far out Bowman's Isle was, and David had rung her not too long ago saying that it didn't look like they were going to be leaving the island until around nine o'clock…

_Calm down, Cordelia. You know how good a skipper Grandfather is…he hasn't ever lost a boat at sea before…why should he now?_

_Well, that's easy, _her mind supplied for her. _We were promised no storms until past Bonfire Night, at least, and this one looks rather wicked…and why is it so dark in the middle, there? It's almost like…but that's impossible! It's almost like…the storm clouds are being drawn to something out there…like magnetism, almost…_

Fear began to seep in to her very core as the wind began to whip up, throwing her bushy hair wildly in every direction. It whistled through the creaky trees, stirring a colony of bats from the topmost branches. They flapped away into the night, shrieking, and Cordelia shivered.

Her husband and daughter were out in that.

_Oh David…please come home safe!

* * *

_

Although David Granger had seen many things in his life, he usually veered away from strange phenomena. Of course, every once in a while, it can't be helped…you see something whether you really ever wanted to or not.

Once when he was five, for instance, he had been standing on the docks watching his father work, when there was a commotion. Despite his father's warning, he ran down to the end of the dock and looked out to the horizon. There, a large, sleek fishing boat was half-in and half-out of the water. The half that _wasn't _in the water was being raged by fire, men were everywhere in the water surrounding it…and the boat was sinking fast.

The other phenomena he would never forget had happened when he was eight (he'd witnessed his friend's father slicing a chicken's head off, and yet the rest of the body was still flapping around, very much alive); fourteen (an incident involving an axe to his leg); eighteen (when his brother actually admitted to being a moron); twenty-three (a very drunk night concerning chess-men and Shakespeare's _King_ _Henry VIII_); twenty-four (when he and Cordelia were married); and, lastly, twenty-five (when his mother died).

As remarkable as all of those were, however, _this_ beat them all.

He ran towards the end of the park, where Hector was gesturing frantically.

"Th-th-they told me to go get you --- w-w-we didn't know what else to do----" Hector gasped, looking around worriedly.

"What is it?" David snapped as Hector led over to the middle of the village square, where there stood an enormous statue.

Hector pointed. _"That!"_

David turned to the statue; it stood proud and tall, a carving of a man in a doublet on a rearing horse. The plaque near the ground proved in gold lettering that this was a bloke named Bowman Wright, who had founded the isle in the mid-1500s…

But it wasn't his plaque that drew David's attention…nor was it the horse's fierce eyes or the mouth open in an unheard whinny…nor, in fact, was it the man's nimble fingers holding the reigns, or his prideful look, or his receding hairline, or his rather long nose…

…It was the eyes of Bowman Wright that stood out the most. They glowed a bright, wicked green that glared through the darkness. It was an almost electrical glow, so fierce that David was sure a man a mile away could feel their awesome power….

The more logical part of him was sure it was some practical joke…it _was_ Halloween after all…but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the grotesque sight of those jaded eyes staring at them all eerily…almost as if they could see right through the onlookers.

Will and Grandfather were both looking up at the statue, feeling a mixture of nauseating sickness and amazement, as David could plainly see on their faces. Rebecca was muttering, "I don't like this…I don't like this…oh, I _really_ don't like this…"

Sebastian shook his head in amazement, not daring to look away from those all-seeing eyes, for once at a loss for words.

"I don't understand," said Hector, staring. "Rebecca was just telling us about him when all of a sudden, there was this tremble --- and --- and --- then his eyes just split open and flared green --- and then----"

The ground before them lurched. The statue shook on its foundation and a dreadful sound, like grinding stone, reverberated throughout the square. The seven watched fearfully as the mouth of Bowman Wright was slowly wrenched open, revealing a wide, gaping hole.

All around them, the lanterns that had lit up at the on-coming darkness faltered and died, leaving only the eerie green light emitting from the statue. The wind picked up around them, dragging the fallen leaves through the dark streets.

Hector glanced around them nervously, taking a few steps back. "I---I don't think we should be here…I've got a _very_ bad feeling about this…"

As if to expound upon this pronouncement, there came a sound from within the statue's mouth. All eyes were drawn to a hissing within, as it grew louder and louder, until----

Bright yellow eyes split through the dark entrance, and a triangular head lifted itself up out of the stone mouth, glaring at them all. Horrified, transfixed, the group could only stare as the gigantic snake began to slither its way out of the mouth, the immense, black coils flexing, then releasing, and growing larger and longer. The snake started to entwine itself around the statue, and the longer it grew, the more it covered. Around the man's arms and legs, the horse's torso, flanks and all…the snake's body never ceased.

Rebecca felt as though she were about to be sick all over the stone walk.

Behind David, there was a choking sound, but he couldn't tell from whom it came. As more of the gruesome sight unfolded itself before their eyes, the little group stumbled backwards, wanting to run but not able to…

Finally, the tail of the snake slid out through the stone mouth of Bowman Wright and made its way in between the horse's legs. It was hard to tell where the twelve feet of coils began and where they ended as they moved around, encircling the giant statue…

…That is, until the snake's great triangular head appeared from around Bowman Wright's feet and started to head straight towards them.

"Oh, _shit!" _Will croaked. He grabbed Rebecca roughly by the arm and started stumbling backwards, the rest following suit. "RUN!"

* * *

James held his son tightly against his body, his trained eyes cutting through darkening air around them, one hand curled around his hidden wand. He longed to light it…to shield his family from whatever was out there… 

_There's something wrong…I can feel it but I can't see it…damned good Auror that makes me, eh?_

He heard a sound behind him and turned, only to see the Grangers and Shylocks coming up to him. His whole body tensed again, however, when he saw their faces.

"We have to leave. _Now_." David Granger strode over to Lily and picked up his Hermione.

"Wh---what happened?" Lily asked, confused.

Will and Sebastian, talking over one another in their haste, began to describe what they'd seen in the village square.

"You saw _what?" _demanded Lily, standing next to her husband, fear growing in her eyes.

"_A snake!_ A bloody humongous snake coming out of the bleeding statue, is what!" Will shouted for the second time.

James' mind was going about a hundred miles a minute. Everyone was talking around him; he could hear different voices saying different things…but he needed just one moment…one moment was all it took…

_Wicked green eyes…magical statues…twelve-foot snakes…the ground trembling…no, not quite…almost have it…keep going, keep going…almost there, James, it's coming at you now…THERE!

* * *

_

_He was standing in the Headmaster's office with Sirius, Kingsley, and Moody. All four of them were wearing their Auror robes, watching Dumbledore pace behind his desk. "You may have a seat, if you like," he told them._

_Moody grunted, while the younger three Aurors shook their heads. _

"_Very well, then. I have brought you here on account of some new information we have acquired. You have all heard of the snake that Voldemort keeps as a pet, have you not?" _

_If the other three were offended by the name, they didn't show it. James nodded, acutely aware of the wizards beside him doing the same. _

"_And you are aware, I trust, of the situation we have been under for quite some time now concerning many stolen valuable artefacts when the wards have apparently not been breached?" Dumbledore looking over at them all, and James had to admit he was curious as to what the two had in common._

"_Yes, sir, but I don't understand what this has to do with----"_

"_Auror Shacklebolt, the matter simply is this," Dumbledore stopped pacing, sat in his chair, and folded his hands, looking at them over his spectacles. "We have found out that the means this snake has of travelling is unlike any other seen before. Have you ever heard of the _Ostium per Saxum_, by any chance?"_

_Moody's grizzled face cleared, and Kingsley nodded in understanding. Sirius glanced a puzzled look at James, who shrugged._

"_I wouldn't think you two would. It is talked of in the higher precincts of the Department of Mysteries…the records are kept in the Wizarding Archives room, in fact. You see, long before Hogwarts was created, back in the Dark Ages, there was a means of communication between witches and wizards that involved travel through solids. Now, of course, we use Apparition, the Floo system, Portkeys…but all of these include passing through concealed air in Time. _

"_This, however, was far different. Each wizarding estate would house a statue in one of their rooms. It could be any statue, so long as it was modelled after a magical being who had given his sculptors the permission to create a portal within the stone. If the wizard owning the statue had vital scrolls he needed to transport safely from one portal space to the next, he had simply to tap the statue in the right place and the portal would open."_

"_How big of a space, exactly?" James inquired._

"_That often depended on the wizard. Some were large enough to fit a full-grown wizard through, if need be. There were even a few that were made expandable, which only a qualified wizard well-trained in the art of gateway alignment could have succeeded in doing," Dumbledore said._

_There was an intake of breath on James' right. "And you think that---"_

"_I am quite _sure_ that Voldemort has re-opened this passage-way between sculptures, Alastor. It is how he has been able to send his snake to do the dirty work that even his closest supporters could not accomplish. It is how he has been able to steal within the Ministry, I believe, to extract veins of information…how he has been able to get behind Gringotts' quarters …how he has been contacting certain, ah…_forces_ that he wouldn't have been able to otherwise…all with the help of his beloved snake…" Dumbledore trailed off, deep in thought._

"_But…wouldn't that mean that he can get into _Hogwarts_, Albus?" Moody asked._

_Surprised, the Headmaster looked up. "Of course not! The castle itself has already sealed off any unwanted contact with the outside world, and I fully trust its capabilities! Just because you are unsure of its magic, Alastor, it doesn't mean that I am…"

* * *

_

"_Ostium per Saxum!" _James breathed, paling. "Clare, we've got to get home, _now!"_

Lily noted the urgency in his voice and strode over to the bench to pack up their things. James turned to the others, an apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm sorry we must leave you like this. I hope you all have a safe trip home…it's going to be a bit rough out there with this storm coming," he said. In his arms, Harry reached up a chubby hand and started messing with his father's dark hair, giggling.

Lily came up to them, a bag thrown over her shoulder. "Are you ready, love?"

"Yes…let's go." James adjusted Harry in his arms so he could quickly shake the hands around him.

When he reached David, the dentist pulled him closer with the handshake to warn him quietly, "Be careful out there, Alonso. There's something faintly anomalous in the air…just concentrate on keeping your family safe."

James looked at him, startled. "I---I will, David, don't worry."

He and Lily left them, walking quickly out of the park. Lily looked over her shoulder at them all one last time, giving them a reassuring smile.

The Grangers and Shylocks watched the Napolis go. It looked as if they were being enveloped by the darkness, and David squinted through the obscurity, trying to find their outline…but no…they were gone.

Hermione whimpered, then buried her head in her father's shoulder, sniffling. Around them, the swarthy air was stirring furiously, and a strange mist was blowing in from the sea. Starting out of a reverie, David turned to the others. "We've worn out our welcome here, it seems. Goodbye, Rebecca, Sebastian. We thank you for having us stay in your home. We'll give you a ring when we get back so you know we've made it safely."

Rebecca hugged them all and wished them well. When she reached Grandfather, she gave him an extra hug. "Be safe! I trust you to look after them in those waters, Captain, but mind you look after yourself as well!" she said, trying hard to stop the tears from falling. She had just found this darling little family…she didn't want to lose them again.

She gave Will a lingering kiss and held onto him tightly, not wanting to let go. He was finally able to pry her off with promises of his return.

David, with his daughter in his arms, hurried out of the park in the opposite direction the Napolis had gone. The rest followed suit, after giving the Shylocks their own goodbyes, and thus the group parted ways.

* * *

The wind was whistling around them as they bustled down the street. Hermione held on tightly, blinking sleep out of her eyes. Soon they left the streets and entered the dense trees surrounding the cliffs. Neenie saw that there weren't any little fairies left…they'd all gone home… 

David at once began the descent down the path, but Will hesitated, looking out over the edge. The dark sea churned beneath him, throwing waves against the cliff-side with incredible force. He shivered and was nearly sick on the grass beside him.

_I hate the sea…oh, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it…_

He heard Hector calling to him, and unsteadily made his way down the path. However ironic it seemed that the eldest son of Captain John Granger was afraid of the sea, he had very good reason to be afraid.

_It's one thing when you are perfectly safe on a boat…it's another when you're pushed into the water of a little, friendly cove…_

…_But the sea…the power the sea has is much too evil for words. I refuse to think about it any longer!_

He inched along the rock face, many yards behind the others. Hector turned and looked at him. "Are you alright, Will? You look dead white!" he called.

Will swallowed nervously, trying very hard to keep his eyes away from straying too far to the right. "I-I'm f-f-fine!"

In the front of the line, Hermione had nodded off, becoming dead weight in David's arms. " 'M seepy, Daddy…'M bery seepy…" she muttered, stirring.

"It's alright, my little queen…we'll be there soon and then you can sleep all you want, okay?" David soothed her, reaching the end of the path. They came to the shallows where the yacht was moored, and Grandfather and Hector hurried past him to ready _The Olivia. _

David set Neenie down and kneeled next to her. "Neenie, you stay _right_ here, okay? Daddy's got to go help Gampa and Pan with the yacht. _Don't move!"_

He hurried off to help them, shouting over his shoulder, "Will! Watch her!"

Will barely heard him. His head was throbbing along with the crashing waves and his heart beat furiously against his chest. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

Hermione stood still where her daddy set her and yawned. Her eyes drooped and she was getting very sleepy…the images around her were becoming blurs, and she only faintly heard her daddy shouting to Pan on Gampa's yacht. She raised a chubby hand to wipe the flyaway curls from her face and wandered over to the water's edge.

The water swirled around beneath her, very black underneath the stormy sky. It reminded her of one time when she was watching Gampa roll a heavy barrel down the dock. When he set it aright and pried open the lid, she begged to see what looked like black water slosh around and was told that it was petrol…that it fed all the boats and the cars and it was yummy for them…

She leaned over and peered into the darkening depths…it didn't _look_ yummy to her…

Reaching out a hand, she touched the dark water and swished her hand around, admiring how white and small her hand looked underneath the liquid. She smiled and closed her eyes sleepily, and when she opened them, she was surprised to see that the water was closer than it had been before…that it was colder and wetter and filling up her eyes and ears and nose…

The water engulfed her body and she was sinking and sinking…down…down…down…

David's head snapped up when he heard a small splash, but brought it back down again when he realized it was probably one of the otters. He turned around and saw Iris, Ceres, and Juno sliding across the yacht to one of the railings. He looked over to where he'd left his daughter, and his heart stopped dead.

"HERMIONE!"

He dropped everything he held and dove over the side and into the water. It was freezing…colder than he ever believed it possible. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness…frantically, he searched the water, looking for her…looking…he saw a flash to the right and swam deeper, deeper, following the white cloth.

His breath was running out…he reached his small Neenie, floating like a little white ghost, her eyes closed…he closed her nose and gave her what little breath he had, pushing off hard from the bottom. He surged forward, swimming as hard as he could with two legs and one arm…the light ahead seemed forever away…he knew he wasn't going to make it in time…he was out of air…he was getting weaker…

His head broke through the water's surface and he gasped for air. He lifted Neenie's limp head above him and felt hands take her from his grasp. Arms seized him and he was pulled up onto the jagged rocks, wheezing.

He was grateful for the blanket thrown around his shoulders, but had to open his weary, salt-stung eyes to look for his daughter. Hector held her in a blanket and her eyes were open…she was breathing…

_Oh, thank God, _he thought, and leaned back. Suddenly, the air seemed much clearer than before. _Whoever knew air tasted this sweet?_

He faintly heard his dad screaming himself hoarse at Will, and a great resentment rose within him. _He was supposed to be watching her! I didn't even see him anywhere near when I looked over…_

"David? We need to leave. Can you get up, or do you need help?" said a quiet voice beside him, whom he knew he wasn't related to.

"No…I'm fine…I can do it…" he croaked. He slowly got to his feet and stumbled onto the yacht, his muscles screaming. He sat down near the bow, anxious to be out of the way. Hermione, still wrapped in a bundle, was set on his lap and she cuddled next to him, rubbing her face against his shirt.

"Love you, Daddy," she whispered, closing her eyes. He held her tightly against him, confused as to whether the drops falling down his face was the sea spray or his own tears.

The engine had started up around him, Grandfather was shouting directions, _The Olivia_ was moving forward, navigating around the dangerous, groundbreaking pull of the ocean. They were getting further and further out into sea…

David saw that the island behind them was surrounded by a mass of dark, low-slung clouds…he thought that they looked as if they were circling the isle. The sky above them now, however, was clearing and a red full moon was climbing higher into the sky…they could even see the few stars that were out…

…It was hard to think that just a few minutes ago, they were in a climbing storm…the air around them was so still now…

He squeezed his sleeping daughter and whispered into her lovely hair.

"Love you, too, my little queen..."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **And that is the end of that...the Grangers' are heading home, the storm is over (for them, at least), andall is well with the world (erm...besides that giant snake, of course). _

_...Or is it? Need I remind you that westill have eightor nine chapters left...whatever will our dear characters do from now until then, eh?The next chapter---being called "The Tempest" for quite a few number of reasons---will be the turning of the story. The plot is getting thicker by the chapter, and certain people must meet up with rather strange and frightening happenings...we musn't keep them waiting..._

_And please don't forget to click that little purple button...it'shovering over the brink of insanity from waiting for your unwilling fingers..._


	12. The Tempest

_"O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it; the winds did sing to me; and the thunder, that deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced the name of Prosper…"_

_---- Alonso, Act III, Scene III, _**The Tempest**

_**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**_

_**THE TEMPEST**_

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

_**--- The Tempest ---**_

**_G_**randfather was perplexed.

"I just don't understand…" he kept saying. "I checked the reports over a thousand times, there wasn't supposed to be so much as a drop of rain anywhere near the Channel! This thing came out of nowhere…completely out of the blue, almost as if…why, almost as if it were----"

"_Magic_," Pan whispered to himself. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the terrible sight behind them. The small island was just visible on the horizon. More so were the luminous black clouds encircling the broad sky above it.

They had sailed a half-hour out and those storm clouds still weren't breaking up. Meanwhile, out of the island's range, the air was blowing them about madly. Pan was just grateful John Granger had ordered him to pull the sails down and was running _The Olivia _on her motor…the canvas would have been ripped apart in this weather.

_Although, what with David and Will both having a go at it, we might just be ripped apart anyway…_

For the past twenty minutes, raised voices had been coming through the hatch. Pan figured they had gone down there so one noisy din wouldn't have to contend against another.

Neenie lay sleeping amid a thick, brown pile Pan assumed to be Iris, Ceres, and Juno. They were well protected from the wind and storm, huddled as they were in a corner of the cockpit. Pan glanced over at them again and smiled as Iris's tail curled tighter around the little girl's arm and Ceres nibbled on a long, wet curl. They acted the way he felt; as if they never wanted to let her out of their sight again.

Just then, the hatch door opened and David and Will came back up from the galley. David, it seemed, had forgiven Will for earlier, but there was still the question of….

Pan glanced over at Grandfather to see a scowl on the old man's face. _He_ wasn't quite as lenient as his younger son was on these matters. "Blundering blockhead…" he muttered. "Why doesn't he just throw himself over a cliff and save us all the trouble…she could have been killed, and it would've been all his fault, not paying attention…effing clot…"

Pan winced and turned away. It was easy to see where Will got his temper. Looking at it, one would wonder whether David seriously was related to these two…the dentist had inherited the quiet temper and quick understanding of _The Olivia's_ namesake. Pan started to pull in the lines, letting his mind off on its own musings. _Wish I could've met her…the way Grandfather goes on about her, that woman could rival the Queen in virtue…_

Will was looking around at the choppy waves, his face green. "I _hate_ the sea!" he said fervently.

Pan cocked his head. "Odd, you were just fine on the way over…why wait till now to develop a conscience?"

"He used to love it as a kid," David explained for Will. "Spent more time than I did at the docks, truth be told. But when he was eight…well, let's just say that things took a turn for the worse…"

Pan looked over at Will, curious, but the black-haired man shook his head hard…apparently he didn't want to relive the experience, especially not in the middle of the sea. Instead, Will closed his eyes against roaring wind and began to declaim.

"Oohh, I have suffered with those I saw suffer! A brave vessel, who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her, _dashed_ all to pieces!" he mourned pitifully. "Oh, the cry knocked against my very heart! Poor souls…they perished!"

David snorted and was about to make a retort when they heard a deafening blast of sound behind them. The men were thrown against each other as the yacht lurched forward, waves slamming into her. The engine shuddered and died. The wind emitted a continuous wail, and a sharp bolt of lightning cracked through the darkness and across the sky.

As soon as he could stumble to his feet, Pan whipped his head around to Bowman's Isle. An eerie green light drifting up from one part of the island and into the sky…a sick, twisted feeling appeared in his stomach, and he had a horrible suspicion…

_No…oh no, no, no, no…please, Merlin, no!_

But the green light did not take the shape he was sure they were to see…in fact, the green mist didn't take shape at all…it surrounded the island, obscuring it from view; but the next moment, Pan forgot about it entirely.

The eerie storm clouds that had been hovering above the island had been broken apart by the green light and were now vacating the premises in a circular motion at an extremely fast rate…in fact, they were heading straight towards _The Olivia_….

"What in the _devil's_ name----!" John Granger gasped, staring at the spectacle before them.

Will swore and took off down the hatch, emerging a minute later with David's pair of binoculars. He zoomed in on the island and paled. "_Oh no_…please, God, _no!" _he moaned, the binoculars clattering to the floor. His hands were shaking so badly he had to hold his head in order for them to stop.

David stared at his brother in alarm. "Will, _what_?"

Will took his head out of his hands and stared wide-eyed at them all. It actually scared Pan how the man was acting; he had sunken to the floor, shrunk inside himself. "The light, David!" he croaked. "That green light came from the west of Godric's Hollow! _Right where the Shylocks live!" _

His brother drew in his breath sharply and snatched the fallen binoculars. He hurriedly faced the direction of Bowman's Isle, but how he could see through the green mist, Pan had no clue.

Will, meanwhile, had turned to his father, suddenly urgent. "Dad! We have to turn back! We have to make sure they're alright --- _I _have to make sure Rebecca's alri----"

"Now hold on a second!" Grandfather roared. "You think that I'm actually going to listen to you when you nearly killed my _granddaughter_? In case you didn't know it, _mate_, there is a storm heading straight for us! You may only care about your own bloody life, but I am responsible for everyone else's and I _will not_ sacrifice them for your convenience!"

Will drew back as if he'd been slapped and stared at his father in shock. "It…it's not…it's not like that," he said weakly. "Dad, please…you have to understand…"

"_No_, Will! I couldn't care less if the Queen's life depended on it! _We are not turning back!_" Grandfather hissed, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He hurried back to the wheel, barking over his shoulder, "Hector! Get below and check on the rudder! David, take a hold o' the wheel while I see to the engine----"

But David didn't move. Pan was torn between wanting to follow his captain's orders, and wanting to see how this played out --- until thunder roared overhead and the yacht was tossed violently to the side, making up his mind for him. He ducked his head and disappeared below.

Staring at his father in quiet determination, David was barely aware of the young boat hand seeing to the old captain's command. "Dad…do you remember the winter before Mum died? We had all gone up to Aviemore to go skiing and Rebecca had come with us," he said softly, and his father froze as he heard David's words. "News came one morning that something had happened…Sebastian had been in a car accident in Newquay…he was driving with Constance and their son when they were rammed into by a truck. They were all taken to the hospital, but Constance and Barry didn't survive. They died before night fell."

Grandfather was ashen-faced, the look of tortured remembrance in his eyes. David glanced over to Will and couldn't even see his brother's face, as Will stood beside the railing, looking off towards Bowman's Isle.

It pained David to bring this up, but he knew it had to be mentioned. He went on, his voice rising against the din, "We tried to get the first flight back, but they were all booked. We couldn't find passage until three days later, and when we went to look for Sebastian, the hospital had signed his release and he was nowhere to be found."

"So what's yer point?" Grandfather gruffly shouted over the oncoming storm.

"My _point_ is that we couldn't be there for him when he needed us the most! Do you want that to happen again, Dad? What if that --- that _thing _did come from the Shylocks' house and something happened to them? They were there for us when Mum died. They're not just Will's friends…they're all of ours!" David shouted. His hair and clothes blew about him; the waves crashed onto _The Olivia _and showered them all with salt water.

Grandfather clutched the wheel and stared at his hands. The waves were swelling fiercely rocking them from side to side…he had to make up his mind soon…

Tipping his back up, he saw four pale, hopeful faces in the dark, their hair flying wildly about them as the wind screeched past. He looked beyond them to the faraway island they'd just left behind, and saw the miles of thunderous black clouds, forked lightning, tossing waves, and roaring thunder that stood between them…_The Olivia _couldn't stay adrift in the storm for too much longer…

He squeezed his eyes shut and had one last thought – _Hell, what am I getting myself into?_ – before shouting his answer.

"LET'S BRING 'ER AROUND!"

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

The yacht surged through the water, beating against the very forces that were contending against her. Though she was driven back again and again by the raging wind, the violent sea, the vehement storm, _The Olivia _kept her beaten prow fixed on the northwest. David, Will, and the sleeping Neenie had been bustled below once the rudder was seen to and the engine roared back to life, but they still felt the results as the yacht heeled to the side.

Will stumbled around as he tried to find a seat that wasn't taken (Iris, Juno, and Ceres had claimed theirs long ago). He was just about to head towards the bed and lay next to Neenie in the small stateroom when he pitched headlong and fell on her instead.

David hurried to his daughter's side when she began screaming, and she latched herself onto him, not daring to let go for the rest of their journey.

When they neared the Isle, the storm seemed to lessen and they entered the green mist they'd seen afar off covering the island. The Grangers would have considered this event as one of the oddest they'd ever encountered…had they not come across so many events the past few hours that held an even higher place on their Oddometer, that is.

When Will couldn't take any more of it, he headed back up on deck and straight to the railing, where he started hurling over the side. "Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause….though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause…though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause…" he kept muttering, over and over again, as though hoping the Sea Gods would deliver him from this raging hell.

Grandfather laughed at him, but a half-hour later was left dumbfounded as the seas began to quiet and the storm became calmer. _Hmph…maybe he's not stupid after all._

Grandfather was just about to head around towards the harbour when Will stopped him. "No! If we went to the harbour, we'd have to cross nearly half the island on foot; it would take an hour! It'll be quicker from the cove!"

"Are you _barmy?_"the old man shouted back. "There's no way I'll be able to maneuver her around those cliffs without being caught by the tide, unless I----"

"Dad!" Will said earnestly. "I know you can do this! Please?"

Grandfather looked over at him and was taken aback. For a second there, Will looked as if he was eight again, bright eyes pleading and voice filled with a child's innocent trust.

_Now I _know_ I'm getting old…imagining Will as an innocent little blighter. Ha! When was he ever innocent?_

And so, for the third time that day, Grandfather navigated his precious yacht around the promiscuous shoals, the hidden reefs, the jutting out rocks --- he was becoming very well acquainted with this part of the island. Giving a wide berth to the deadly cliffs, they passed the lower rocks and approached the grassy beach. High tide was in and the cove where they had spent their afternoon was already half-filled with rock-dashed waves.

"Dad!" David yelled as soon as they pulled in. "Will and I'll go up and see what's going on and if the Shylocks are alright. You stay here with Neenie and Pan. Keep _The Olivia_ running until we come back! We won't be gone long!"

At once, there was protestation at these words. When David tried to peel his daughter off him, she just screamed and held on tighter. Hector, his face tinged with green, stepped in front of David and folded his arms, his expression silently resolute.

David sighed wearily. "Alright then! Neenie and Pan will be coming with us, too!"

Will was the first to reach the ladder. He didn't bother with climbing down, but just slid. Splashing through the water and jumping over the rocks, he soon disappeared down the path.

Grandfather watched his younger son and boat-hand hurry off after Will. He shook his head and looked down at his feet. "Guess it's just down to you and me now, girls," he told the otters clamouring around his legs.

They disdained to answer.

Casting a glance up at the troubled, darkened sky, Captain John Granger couldn't help but feel fear tugging at his ancient heart. They were already in this storm pretty deep, but he had a gut feeling that something was still coming…and he didn't have those feelings very often.

But whenever he did, he was always right.

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

Will tore along the path blindly. His mind was set only on finding Rebecca, making sure she wasn't hurt…

_If anything's happened to her…if she's hurt at all…_

He blanched and tripped over a rock, almost pitching over the side of the path. Before, he would have balked at the pounding waves below and refused to go the rest of the way…but he couldn't afford his fear right now. Rebecca was more important.

Up the rocky path he ran, stumbling a few more times. After what seemed like forever, he reached the top and hurried down the small path that led through the trees…the air was dark and dismal around him…this green mist wasn't helping to boost his spirits, that was for sure…and this fear that was clouding his mind didn't help matters any.

…If anything happened to her…it would be all his fault…he would never forgive himself…

_I won't be gone when she needs me the most! I won't do this to her…I can't…not again._

On either side of him, the trees loomed in the dark. Once or twice, he could have sworn a passing branch was a real person…but no…must be a trick of the light. He was so focused on the task at hand, in fact, that he barely heard David and Hector calling his name.

He surged through the overgrown path until he reached the main road. He stopped in confusion and stared. He heard David and Hector crashing through the brush behind him, but didn't move.

The streets were pitch-black; the lanterns that had lit the way for them before were now extinguished, and even the stray front room lights in the neighbouring houses were gone. Will, David, and Hector moved through the empty streets, looking around uneasily.

"Where is everyone?" Will muttered. "And who turned out all the lights?"

The lingering mist hung in the air, thin as a bride's wedding veil. Up ahead, the three men heard a crowd of voices and followed the sound in the dark to the town square.

It seemed as if half the village was there, all talking loudly and voicing their confusion. Many held torches and kept clicking them on and off, but no light came out of them. Will looked up at the statue they were all gathered around and stiffened…but no glaringly green light shone out of Bowman Wright's eyes, and his mouth was mercifully closed.

There was talk all around them. Will, David, and Hector had only to slip into the back to hear a great number of mingled conversations and get the gist of what was going on.

"----And now our power's out, and now I can't find Spock, and I'm afraid he's got into Farmer Pickering's chicken coop again, and now my sinuses are acting up and I seem to have misplaced my little tablets --- haven't seen them, by the way, have you? --- and Mother's going to be a --- a --- ACHOO!"

"----I was putting my hair up in curls, like I do every night, Fran, when all of a sudden I heard an explosion! Sounded quite like dear Biggins when he's had one tart too many, if you know what I mean----" chortled a tiny woman in curlers who didn't seem at all disturbed in what was going on.

Will squeezed past an older woman and a small kid, searching the crowd for the Shylocks.

"I say! It do look rather eerie around 'ere, ain't it? Give me the goose pimplies, it does. Wouldn't mind lendin' me your nighty gown, woulda Gran? I'm dressed in naught but me undies!"

"Quiet, Stanley, I'm trying to listen!" the old woman snapped, "Ooh! Where has that good-for-nothing Ernest got to now?"

Finally --- "REBECCA!" Will shouted, ignoring the glares shooting his way from everyone else around him. He charged towards her, his legs nearly limp with relief, gasping from breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She was here…she was alright…

"_Will?_ But --- I don't --- what are you doing here? You should be in Brownsville by now!" said Rebecca, looking worried.

"We heard the explosion out at sea and came to see what it was. And I thought it was --- I thought you were----"

"N…no, I…we're alright," Rebecca stammered, her face ashen. "I just…I don't know what happened…there was this explosion not far from us…it --- it --- it looked like it came from Alonso and Clare's house…and S-Sebastian's gone with some men to the Napolis' to see if they're…if they're…and wh-wh-what with that storm, and this mist, I…I just…I don't know what to do…"

She suddenly seemed so small and vulnerable in her dressing gown. Will put his arms around her shivering body as David and Hector joined them, Neenie still latched onto her father's arms.

"Everything's going to be fine now," Will whispered comfortingly. Now if only he could believe that as well…

There was a commotion and Rebecca broke away. "_He's back!"_

Sebastian Shylock reached the small group, whiter than _The Olivia's _hull. All they had to do was look into his dark eyes to know what had happened. "Th…their house is gone," he began. "We…we looked through the rubble, but…they're dead, Rebecca…Alonso and Clare are dead…"

Rebecca swayed a little. "And Ferdinand? What about him, did you find his body? Is he…dead…too?"

Sebastian slowly shook his head, "We couldn't find him…he was probably buried underneath the debris…he wasn't there."

His sister let out a dry sob and Will clutched her to him. David looked stunned, but Hector was shaking his head. "No," the boat-hand whispered. "No, that can't be right…no…"

Then, before anyone could stop him, Hector broke through the crowd and took off running. David called after him, to remind him that they needed to leave, but the young man didn't seem to hear him.

Hermione looked up, confused. "Where's Pan? Where's Pan? Wants Pan, Daddy! Wants him bery much…"

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

_I knew there was something odd about them… something in the way they acted together…_

Hector tore through the streets, dark and foreboding houses flashing by.

_And then when I shook his hand when we were leaving… I knew who he was…who _they _were, since he was never far from her side…_

He thought he heard a motor roaring somewhere close by…he glanced at the skies, confused…the storm wasn't back now, was it? He shook his head.

_It was James all along…he and Lily must have used a Glamour Charm…and on their son, too…what's his name? Harry._

He reached Gryffindor Lane, and paused before entering its blackened depths. Eyeing the darkness suspiciously, he pulled a thin stick from a concealed pocket in his trousers. _"Lumos," _he whispered, and the end of his stick suddenly glowed brightly. He cast it around him, treading cautiously down the uneven path through the dense thicket, his every sense alert for any trouble that might arise.

He passed the Shylocks' house and continued down the path that led past their front gate, wand held high. Many tense minutes passed as he cautiously edged forward, feeling as if there was a lurker behind every tree.

Just as he began to wonder whether this path was ever going to end, Hector heard voices up ahead. "_Nox!"_ he whispered, and his wand's light went out. He stopped to listen.

"----There was nothin' yeh could've done," said a deep, husky voice. "Once You-Know-Who has it in his mind ter go after someone, he can' be stopped."

"No…y-you don't understand…it's my fault…it's all my fault…" croaked a second voice. "Th…they're gone…J-J-James and Lily are g-g-gone!"

Hector crept down the path as stealthily as he could, moving towards the voices. The dark foliage shielding his body from view, he rounded the corner and stared.

What was left of the two-story house that had stood there was scattered in ruins. There were heaps of rubble and piles of what used to be furniture, now reduced to cinders. On the ground around the area, he could see obvious scorch marks, and several of the trees had been ripped up out of the ground as though blasted by an unseen force.

And amid the mouldering wreck were the two people responsible for the voices he had heard. Hector shrank back slightly, not out of fear, but so they didn't see him…or worse, recognize him.

The far larger of the two Hector had no trouble in discerning. It didn't take a genius to be able to spot Rubeus Hagrid in a crowd. Beside Hagrid stood a sleek motorbike and a younger man who had thick black hair and a very white face.

_It…it's Sirius Black! _Hector realized, and immediately felt quite idiotic for not having known it before. _Of course, how could I forget? _Sirius Black was James Potter's best friend. Both men had been Gryffindors and natural pranksters, and were just a year older than Hector, in fact.

"They were heroes," said Hagrid, blowing his nose loudly. "They died fer their kid and now…now You-Know-Who's gone!"

All of Hector's musings about James and Sirius vanished in an instant. He drew in his breath sharply, feeling as though he'd just had the wind knocked out of him.

"H-h-he's got a cut on his face!" breathed Sirius. "Is…is that where…?"

"Yeah…You-Know-Who used the Killin' Curse on James and Lily, and then he used it on little Harry, here…but somethin' happened…don' know what, Dumbledore didn' tell me…but whatever it was, Harry survived from it, and now You-Know-Who's gone…" Hagrid trailed off, looking at the small bundle in his arms.

_You-Know-Who's gone…_Hector repeated, leaning against the tree. _That can't be…it's impossible… _

He wanted to believe it, hopelessly, deliriously, wanted it to be true. But it was impossible. How could the most feared wizard of their time be defeated by a mere _baby? _

The two men kept talking. Sirius kept shaking and had a vulnerable look about him that reminded Hector of a lost puppy. "Give H-Harry to me, Hagrid…I-I'm his godfather, I-I-I'll look after him. It's the least I could do for James…he…he would've wanted it."

Hagrid shook his head. "No. Dumbledore gave me strict orders ter bring him ter Surrey, ter his relatives."

"_What? _But he doesn't have any family now, besides…besides Lily's sister...but --- but you can't…she's a Muggle!"

"It's Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid repeated firmly.

"Can I…can I at least say goodbye?"

Hagrid reluctantly gave the bundle over to him, and a small hand stuck out and touched the other man's face. Sirius walked away, cooing at the baby, tears falling unashamedly as he looked down at the little replica of his best friend.

His dead best friend.

Hector could hear Sirius Black talking to Harry, telling him things about his father…things about his future…and knew it must have pained the man very much.

"I've got ter get 'im outta here, Sirius…those Muggles'll be back soon…they've already been here once, I'd just got Harry out of them ruins in time…" Hagrid said, uneasy.

Sirius looked up, a glint in his eyes that had nothing to do with mirth. "Here…take my bike, Hagrid…it'll get you there faster," Sirius's voice rose over Hagrid's feeble protests. "I won't be needing it anymore where I'm going, you do! Just take it and get out of here…if You-Know-Who really has gone, this place'll be swarming with Death Eaters real soon. Not to mention Aurors, DMLE, the _rest_ of the Ministry…"

Hagrid threw his leg over the enormous bike, which seemed to have magically conformed to accommodate him. Sirius handed Harry up to him once he was settled. "Just tap it with your umbrella to get her started. You'll get the hang of it. Good luck, Hagrid," Sirius said, and stepped back as the engine roared to life. He waved Hagrid and Harry off, watching them rise up above his head, over the trees…and out of sight.

As soon as the bike vanished, Hector saw Sirius's whole body visibly sag. And he also saw something he hadn't noticed before…most likely because Hagrid's big bulk was now gone…

A few paces from where Sirius Black stood, two bodies lay on the ground, covered in a white cloth…no doubt due to Sebastian and the village men who had come earlier…but Hector gave an involuntary shiver, knowing who were under those cloths.

Lightning flashed silently around them, and a soft rain began to fall. Sirius walked over to the two bodies, kneeling down in between them, his shoulders sagging.

"I…I'm so sorry, Prongs," he whispered brokenly. "I'm…so…_sorry_…"

And with that, his back began to heave and shake as he wept, and a dreadful sound, like a dog's moaning, split the night.

Hector couldn't break his eyes away from the sight of the man's mourning, kneeling beside his two dead friends, ruin and destruction surrounding them as raindrops fell onto the scorched ground, sizzling.

A soft rumble of distant thunder jolted him back to his senses and Hector backed up, slowly turning away…leaving this man alone with his grief.

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

David was pacing by the time Hector got back.

"_There_ you are! We need to leave…in fact, we should have left twenty minutes ago…" he stormed, but Hector barely heard him.

Hermione at once began squirming in her father's arms. As soon as he set her down, she ran over to her new best friend. "Pan!" she cried, hugging him.

Hector picked her up absent-mindedly, his mind a mixture of confused emotions.

If You-Know-Who really was gone ('dead' just didn't seem like the right word for this man)…and a little boy really had thwarted him…and what Sirius Black said was true…than this island would be swarming with witches and wizards very soon. Hector had to wonder why they weren't all there already, but he wasn't complaining…

_And Death Eaters…he mentioned Death Eaters specifically…_Hector's eyes widened and he snapped his head up.

"We need to leave," he told David urgently.

David stared at him. "That's what I just said."

With Neenie in his arms, Hector strode over to Will and Rebecca and grabbed the other man's arm. "Come on, we haven't got much time!"

"W-w-why are we out of time?" Will asked, confused, as he was pulled along. David threw the Shylocks a quick farewell wave before following.

"I haven't time to explain!" said Hector, frustrated. "We just need to get out of here as quick as we can!"

Will and his brother exchanged looks over Hector's shoulder. "This from the guy who took off running in the opposite direction from safety and disappeared for fifteen minutes," Will remarked.

Hector ignored him but quickened his pace once they were out of the packed square. The light rain started to fall harder and the eerie mist at last began to dissipate.

Hermione snuggled in her Pan's arms and sighed. "Pan?"

"Yes, Neenie?"

"Whens are we gonna get home? I's bery tired…"

Hector smiled tightly. "I'm sorry, Neenie. There's just been one thing on top of another. But we're trying. Why don't you take a nap on me right now?"

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and yawned, "Wead me a story? Pwease?"

Hector turned onto the forsaken path that lead to the cliffs. He was getting drowsy…but he had to stay awake…he had to stay alert in case something happened…

"All right," Hector whispered. "Once upon a time there was a little boy----"

He could hear David and Will conversing quietly behind him…and something else…

"----And he lived with his parents away from the world in a nice, little house on a nice, little island----"

A set of familiar swishing noises. He gripped the handle of his hidden wand with the hand not supporting Neenie.

"----He had all sorts of fun playing games with his parents…but one dark and lonely night, they were taken away from him by a mean man----"

David and Will abruptly stopped talking and looked around, brows furrowed and ears perked.

"----And then the mean man turned towards that little boy, and was just about to do something to him, when all of a sudden----"

"Well, well, well," drawled a cold voice from behind them. "If it isn't young Bones!"

**_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

_**Author's Note: **Well...here you are. The last chapter for a while because I'll be gone for two weeks and I'm leaving in less than a few hours. Please give me love while I'm gone and review! There's nothing better than a big stack of encouragement sitting in your inbox after a very trying time. And please, go ahead and speculate what's going to happen, who are the bad guys, who's going to die...I love it when you do...even though I can never give you a flat out answer._

_Oh and kudos goes out to a certain Dumbledoresgirl1 who had a bit of a rather good guess in her review about what was going to happen. ;)_

_Review replies will be coming a little late, but I WILL write them when I get back, have no fear! Have a happy rest-of-the-month while I'm gone, won't you? I'll be writing the next chapter in my spare time (seven days in the car...seriously, what else would I do?) And chapter thirteen is going to be called (get ready for it)..._

_"O Captain, My Captain!"_


	13. Every Third Thought

**(Warning: Not like anything else I've done before, so if you're a bit surprised, all I can say is that I've warned you.)**

_

* * *

_

_"You are three men of sin, whom destiny, that hath to instrument this lower world, and what is in't,---- the never surfeited sea hath cause to belch up; and on this island where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; and even with such like valour, men hang and drown their proper selves."_

_--- Ariel, Act III, Scene III, _**The Tempest**

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* * *

_

**THE TEMPEST**

* * *

_**--- Every Third Thought ---**_

_H_ector's blood ran cold. He whipped around to find himself face to face with Lucius Malfoy. Thunder roared and lightning split the night, illuminating the wizard's face and pale features as he stepped out of the shadows and into the clearing.

"And look!" Malfoy continued. "He's brought us some friends…they should be fun to play with, wouldn't you say, Nott?"

David and Will froze on either side of Hector as another figure appeared on the right.

"Yes, that's quite right…what a bonus! I applaud you, Bones…this should be almost as fun as murdering your brother was…although, granted, we _had_ set out to kill all of his children…but this…" Nott's grin widened as his eyes rested on the child in Hector's arms. "_This _we weren't even expecting!"

Hector's face turned ashen and there was a sharp intake of breath on his left. Will had started to turn a delicate shade of green.

"Now, now, you can't have them all to yourselves, Patroclus," said yet another voice belonging to the tall figure materializing on Hector's left. "Save some for the younger generation, wouldn't you? After all, we've been waiting a long time for this…_haven't_ _we_, Bones?"

_This is my fault…this is all my fault…they want me and I had to drag the Grangers into this…_

Hector's heart quickened. He would have moaned at their dire situation had he not been so paralysed. A stirring in his arms told him that Neenie was awake. Without looking away from Malfoy's cold eyes, he slid her slowly to the ground and set her behind him. David and Will both moved in front slightly, covering her from view.

"Whatever you want, Malfoy, they're not a part of this. Let them go," Hector demanded, his voice shaking.

The man before him gave a ruthless laugh. "Not a part of this? But they are more a part of this than even _you_ are, my dear boy. No…I think they need to stay right here…"

"_I_ will not be staying anywhere," David cut in abruptly. "If you would excuse me, there's somewhere I must be."

But the three Death Eaters had started to circle around them, smoothly cutting off both ways of escape. Nott and Rosier circled around to the back, cutting off the path to the village while Lucius planted himself firmly in front, right between them and the cliffs. Hector swallowed, his eyes moving from one Death Eater to the other, their wands ready and eyes alight with cruelty.

"I do not think I can allow that," Malfoy said softly.

"Well, _I _do not think it is your decision to allow! And I would also like to know why you keep on calling him 'Bones', _sir_…what did you say your name was again?" said David.

"But have we not introduced ourselves? You must forgive me…I simply forgot my manners in the face of _Muggles!_" This last word he spat out with vile contempt. He spread out his arms before him. "Allow me to present…Lucius Malfoy, senior Death Eater and most loyal servant of the Dark Lord. And these are my two colleagues: Patroclus Nott…and Evan Rosier.

"But we aren't quite finished yet, are we, Bones? This Muggle asked why we keep calling you by your real name…you haven't been lying to them, have you? Going by a false identity, now? But then…I suppose that can only be expected when you hang around _their_ sort. Probably traded your wand in for paper money!" Malfoy turned back to David. "In answer to your question…_sir_…his real name is Hector Pandaemon Bones."

His face taut with anger, Hector gripped the hidden wand up his sleeve. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

The trees pressed in all around them. There was nowhere for them to escape…they were completely blocked off. Even if they succeeded in capturing the Death Eaters' wands --- which was impossible, he knew --- they'd still have to contend with brute force _and _making sure that Hermione was safe…

And something that frightened Hector more than anything else was the fact that those dangerous cliffs were right next to their clearing. If things got out of hand, he wanted to be far away from those.

He knew they might as well just be wishing for a miracle if they were to hope for any easy way out of this. And he had already ruled out Apparating away, not even considering it as an option. Saving himself would surely mean death for the Grangers…he would be a fool to think Malfoy would leave them alone…

_Right then. There are three of them…and one of me, which means that we are way outnumbered in the wand department…and if I'm not careful, they'll get the Grangers as well…but I can't possibly…I couldn't _possibly_ cover us all…_

Then, to his surprise, Will stepped forward.

"Look…I don't know who you think you are, what the hell you want, or _why_ you think that we are a part of this…but I do know that the last thing we want right now is a fight. So if you happen to have any decency --- which I _highly_ doubt at the moment --- then you'd let us through. If not…well…" he smirked, "you would be sorely mistaken to think that I am less equipped!"

Evan Rosier, the man on the left, sneered. "How low you have sunken, Bones…having a _Muggle_ fight your battles for you! So tell us…would you like us to kill them first and then proceed to you…or should we leave them for dessert? That little girl certainly looksbetter than an apple crisp…but let us just see if she _tastes_ like one!"

He licked his teeth, eyeing Hermione. David growled and made a lunge at him, but Hector and Will swiftly caught his arms before he'd do something they'd all regret. Straining against the hands that held him, David glared at Rosier and whispered savagely, "Don't you _dare _touch my daughter!"

Malfoy's face hardened at the exchange. "I don't think you are one to be giving orders…_David!_" he said coldly.

David went very still. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, we know a lot more about then you may think, believe me! Who do you think it was who referred your oafish father to Bones? Who do you think it was who sent him to the pitiful town of Brownsville-on-Somerset? Did you think that this was all by _accident_?" Malfoy spat.

Hector stared at him, horror growing in his heart at the very words. "You didn't…I didn't…_no!" _he croaked. "You couldn't have! I read about the job on the notice board at the warehouse----"

"And who did you think put it there?" Malfoy said, smirking. "_I did. _I knew there wasn't a chance any of the Muggles in there would be attracted to it, because the Muggle version of it was an advertisement for toilet plumbing."

"But…how did you know I would be interested in it, let alone actually take it?" asked Hector, his voice rising. "How did you know John Granger would actually take _me? _And why in Merlin's name do you even want me here, anyway? _What is it you want?"_

Although Hector knew that however confused _he_ was, David and Will were even more so, it didn't help him any. His mind was turning around in circles, trying to remember everything he knew about his life…the tiniest details could be relevant to something he had missed…

But above everything else, a fear was growing inside of him that this wasn't even about him at all…that it was someone else Malfoy wanted the whole time…that Hector was supposed to somehow lead him _to _it…

_But it doesn't make any sense! _he shouted in his mind. _They've been after me for two years now…but Malfoy basically said that he knew where I was the whole time…so if he knew where I was, why didn't he just come and kill me? Why drive me all the way out here? And what do the Grangers have to do with anything? _

_What in the _world _is he talking about? _

Will and David edged closer together, keeping Hermione pressed between them.

"You want me to explain?" Malfoy lifted a shoulder in an arrogant shrug. "Very well, I shall. You are more connected with these Muggles than you think you are. And the one thing that links you all together isn't even here…the one thing that I need the most…"

"And what is that?" snapped Hector. "Is it a weapon? Some new device that your so-called 'Dark Lord' invented for you to get the job done quicker Whatever you want, the Dark Lord delivers, is that it?" Behind him, he could hear a faint whisper, but dismissed it as his imagination.

"Tsk, tsk," Malfoy said, his face sympathetic though his eyes were anything but. "What _I _want has nothing to do with it. The Dark Lord was very pleased I found you…we'd been searching for you for quite some time. He made a vow long ago to murder everyone in your family and _you…_you just escaped more easily than the others----"

Hector threw his head back and laughed. "Not all the others! You still haven't found Amelia, have you? Or Doug and his family…you have no clue where you should even begin to look for_ them_."

David shifted so his face was just peering at Malfoy over Hector's shoulder. The next second, Hector heard the smallest of voices in his ear. "_When Will says to----"_

"And that is why you are going to tell me," said Malfoy dangerously.

"_----We'll attack ----"_

"But not yet…what I need will be coming soon----"

"---- _Leaving you free to_ _----"_

"And we shall wait until that time…"

"----_Understood?"_

Malfoy trailed off, looking around them as though he were expecting something. David and Will were tense beside Hector, confusion long since set aside for the conversation at hand. Hermione was still latched onto the back of Pan's leg.

"You keep saying that something is missing," David spoke up, and Hector realized that he was determined to keep Malfoy talking. "What?"

"But didn't you know already? My, my, you lot aren't very bright, are you? Now think, Bones…think really hard…something happened this morning that wasn't an accident, however it may have seemed. Something had to have happened to bring you three together, or else none of this could have happened…"

Lightning split the night once more and Hector could see the smooth features on the Death Eater's face.

_This morning…what happened this morning? He said that it was an accident…but who had to be brought together? And why?_

Images flashed before him as he tried to remember --- meeting the captain at his cottage…taking a break from work to buy food…the grocery store…the accident…

And then it hit him.

* * *

Cordelia glanced up from her book as above her the lights flickered, then went dead. She would have been left in darkness had she not lit all those candles before. They danced around her, their many little glows lighting up her page.

But even though she was already prepared for power outage, it did nothing to help her nerves. This storm was coming in from the sea…exactly where David was…unless, of course, they'd pulled into the harbour already, but….

_No, they can't be in the harbour already. I called the harbourmaster hours ago and he said he'd let me know when _The Olivia _came in, and he hasn't called yet…_

Of course, there was always the possibility that they hadn't even left Bowman's Isle yet…

_But I rang up the Shylocks an hour ago and they said that they left long before…but then the phone went dead, and I couldn't call back, so it makes me wonder if something happened to _them _and David, Grandfather, and Will stayed behind to help them out or something…_

Which of course was more plausible, seeing as how the storm was still very strong across the Channel…anything could have happened, really…but it didn't mean that whatever had happened involved an overturned yacht and people bobbing in the middle of the sea----

_No! Cordelia, you bint, nothing's happened! Stop thinking along those lines, you'll just get worse…David and Neenie are alright…Grandfather is looking out for them, they wouldn't leave him behind, and I know that he isn't too swell on land --- what with his bad leg and cane and all --- but he's the absolute best there is on the sea!_

Besides, she reasoned, Jake the harbourmaster always alerted the Bristol Coastguard when any of the ships hadn't come back after the bell had rung.

_Everything will be alright…they are probably just waiting for the worse of this storm to pass by…David's always driven on the right side of caution, especially when it comes to his daughter…_

Finally calm, she went back to her book. It didn't take her long to finish the other one, she'd been more than halfway through with it. She was on Shakespeare's _The Tempest _now…with all the talk there'd been lately about it, she'd had the familiar urgings to read one of her old favourites.

_When I'm not too busy cleaning, it's always a pleasure to look in on David reading it to Hermione every night, _she chuckled. _That little girl absolutely adores this book…we're going to have to start on longer and more boring books when Shakespeare stops lulling her to sleep…which will be any day now…_

And it was true. It was taking Neenie longer and longer to fall asleep every night, so absorbed she was in her daddy's story.

Cordelia looked down at her page number and grinned. _Almost caught up with them now, and it only took me what, two hours?_

She was at the marriage-feast where Iris, Juno, and Ceres, the female spirits, sing their blessings on Miranda and Ferdinand. Prospero watches all with his loyal sprite Ariel, when suddenly they remember that they must be elsewhere to deal with the savage slave, Caliban…

" '_You do look, my son, in a moved sort, as if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir: our revels are now ended: these our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air: and like the baseless fabric of this vision the cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind'_…" Cordelia whispered softly, quoting her favorite words, " '_We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.'"_

Those were the best lines in the whole play, in her opinion…those and the ones in the fifth act when Prospero is speaking to himself about bedimming the noon-tide sun and calling forth the mutinous winds…all for some heavenly music to work his end upon their senses. And when he had done that, he would break his staff and bury it certain fathoms in the earth and, deeper than did ever plummet sound, drown his book…

She smiled at the words, but it froze on her face when Puck suddenly leapt up, fur standing on end, eyes wide and fixed in the candlelight.

"Puck, what's wrong? Settle down, you, it's just a storm…"

Thunder shook the walls of her house and she heard branches scratch the rooftop eerily as the wind whipped them around mercilessly. But as bad as it was outside, Cordelia had a strong impression that it wasn't the storm that was frightening Puck. His back arched and a soft hissing noise escaped him. He didn't respond to Cordelia's voice or touch, but stared straight at the window, teeth bared.

_Calm down, Cordelia, relax…it's probably just a few teenagers toilet-papering our yard. Yes…that's what it is…there's nothing wrong…in fact, you should probably go open the door and shoo them away…yes…it's probably nothing…_

Only managing to half-convince herself, she quietly got up and walked to the front door. Her footsteps were soft and cat-like, but with every step she took, the more she knew that something was wrong…something was _very _wrong…

She was six feet from the door when it happened.

There was a sudden blast and the door flew open amid blinding red light. Cordelia was thrown backwards, knocking her head on the wall behind her. The ferocious wind blew every single candle out and tiny Puck had no chance; he tumbled straight into the closet and the door shut behind him with a bang.

Lightning lit up the sky through the open front door, blocked from Cordelia's view as a man walked through the doorway.

* * *

"_No!" _Hector whispered, aghast. "No, no, no, no…."

"Oh, yes. She has something we need very much…and we thought that _you_ would bring it…shame on us. But since you didn't…alas, Bones, thanks to you, I've had to send someone to fetch it instead, and he…well," Malfoy chuckled. "Let's just say that his methods include a more…_intimate_ contact!"

Hector drew his head up sharply.

"What do you want with her?" he demanded, panic in his voice.

"Now, Bones, that's not how we ask----"

"_What do you want with Cordelia?" _Hector roared.

* * *

He gazed around the room until his eyes fell on her and tutted.

"You Muggles just seem to sink lower and lower these days," he said. "And still living in the Dark Ages, I see…"

With a wave of his----magic wand, she supposed----a single candle relit, making Cordelia give a sharp intake of breath. The man looked down at her in the dim light and chuckled.

"Dear, dear, you creatures _are _simple. But where are my manners? Allow me to assist you…"

He strode over to her and, for a split second Cordelia thought he was going to offer her his hand. Instead he raised his wand again, and she felt a strange pull at her navel. She half-screamed as her body was suddenly pulled off the ground by _nothing_,and again as she collided with him. He caught her easily, not surprised in the least…on the contrary, his face grew rather smug and he gave her a nasty grin.

"You certainly move fast, don't you?" he said. "Your husband hasn't even been gone a day and already you're jumping into another man's arms."

Cordelia stiffened. "Let go of me!" she snarled, trying to move, but his grip around her only tightened.

"I can see why you persist, but I really musn't, you know. I came here for business, not for…_pleasure!"_

She called him a word she had only used once before in her life, but he just threw his head back and laughed. "So the lioness does have claws! I would have been very disappointed if you didn't…very disappointed indeed…"

She squirmed as he leered at her. Then, abruptly, he let go, and she stumbled away, backing into the wall. "Now to business," he said briskly. "Where should I begin…ah, but of course! I nearly forgot…this might just take more than a few, so you'll want to get comfortable…pull up a chair…"

He raised his wand once more and Cordelia flinched. Beside her, a straight-backed, wooden chair appeared.

"Please, sit down."

She didn't move. "No, thank you," she said coldly.

His smile faltered and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. "I believe I told you to sit _down."_

Cordelia gasped as the chair was magically shoved underneath her, making her lose her balance. She fell into it with a thud.

His smile was back again. "Now that's better! See how much more comfortable you are? I don't think we'll be having any more problems in the future…_will we?"_

Fear shaking her very core, Cordelia forced herself to nod.

"Good. Now, I have a proposition to make…"

* * *

Malfoy stared at Hector, his face devoid of any and all expression, but David wasn't paying attention. He had frozen at Hector's words, his heart pumping wildly. He seemed to have lost all ability to think, to feel...his mind was caught on one thing, and one thing only.

This…murderer_…_was talking about his_ wife_, who was, at this moment, all alone at their house in the middle of a storm…

A murderer was after his wife.

His eyes widened as he remembered what this Malfoy had said…

'_Alas, Bones, thanks to you, I've had to send someone to fetch it instead, and he…well,_ _let's just say that his methods include a more…_intimate_ contact!'_

David's first thought was that he had to get home, no matter what happened. He had to get home and make sure she was all right. Because if she wasn't…if something bad had happened to her…

But there was no way out...no way out…

All he knew was that Malfoy was standing between him and his wife.

It only took him three strides to cross the distance between them. He moved so fast that neither Will nor Hector had time to figure out what he was doing, let alone stop him. Before Malfoy could even think about bringing his wand up in time, David had hit him in the middle of the face as hard as he could.

The others reacted in an instant.

Nott waved his wand, lips starting to perform an incantation, but Will charged at him before he could finish it. Hector stared in disbelief at the two wrestling pairs until he remembered that one Death Eater was still standing.

He turned to Rosier, ducking just in time for the other wizard's curse to hit the tree behind him. But Rosier recovered too quickly. "_Accio girl!_" he snarled and Hermione at once came zooming towards him.

Hector leaped forward and caught her just in time. They fell to the ground, Hector yanking his wand from his sleeve. He shot a quick Stunner in Rosier's direction, praying he'd aimed it properly, as a bunch of long brown curls in his face were blocking his view.

Caught off guard, Rosier's shield came up a second too late and he fell to the forest floor, unconscious.

Whispering a silent thanks to whatever deity was watching, Hector turned to the others and saw David on the ground, bleeding, and Malfoy standing above him, wand raised----

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Hector shouted and Malfoy was blasted off his feet, wand flying off into the darkness.

"_Accio wands!_" He caught the three soaring wands deftly and crouched back down next to Hermione. She stared at him, her brown eyes wide and her thumb in her mouth. "Neenie, do you remember how to play hide-and-seek?" he asked her quietly, his face pale.

She hesitated, then her head bobbed up and down.

"I…I need you to _run, _Hermione. Run as fast as you can, and hide. Don't let any of these men find you, alright? You have to stay hiding until I come and find you. Do you understand?" he said, talking slowly and clearly.

"Unnerstand," she said softly around her thumb.

"Take these." Hector thrust the three Death Eaters' wands into her free hand. "Do _not _them find you! Now run! _Run!"_

He watched her scamper off into the darkness, down the path that led to the village.

"How very…touching!" a voice said from behind him.

Hector turned to see a livid Lucius Malfoy; behind him, David sprawled unconscious on the ground, the area around his mouth very red. In the distance, Will and Nott were still going at it. Nott swung a tree branch furiously, but try as he might, Will was too fast for him.

"You are between me and my wand, boy!" Malfoy snarled.

Hector planted his feet firmly on the path Hermione had just taken. "Come and take it, then!"

With a roar of anger, Malfoy lunged.

* * *

For Will, it was just like the good old days, when he'd started pub brawls just for the fun of it. As soon as David had punched the blondish bloke, Will had felt a stir of the old excitement, and charged to his brother's aid.

Granted, he was surprised this guy --- Nott, was it?--- was lasting so long. He was a tall and weedy man with a look about him that suggested posh and cool finery. Yet, despite that, this man had a strength that surprised Will.

The first thing he'd done when the three men blocked their way to _The Olivia _was size them up. He'd been thinking that, if it came down to it, he would take the slightly bigger one of the three who did all the talking; Hector would take down the one Will had now; and David --- since he wasn't quite as impressive as Will or Hector in the brawn department --- would handle Rosier, but----

He dodged a blow just in time for Nott's fist to collide with a tree, chuckling as Nott started to swear profoundly.

---_Well, even the best of us can only plan so far ahead._

"Tut, tut…I'm afraid the missus won't be too pleased when I tell her what foul language her husband's been run of these days," he taunted, dancing around Nott. "Assuming you even have one, that is. _You're_ such a minger, I wouldn't be surprised if you had to pay to get some action. Unless, of course…she's just as ugly as you are!"

Nott swung a tree branch at his head and Will tripped in his haste to stay clear of it. They were only a few yards away form the cliff edge. Will could see where the ground suddenly dropped away in the darkness.

The branch came down at him out of nowhere and he rolled away --- right into a brutal kick at his ribs. He groaned and Nott put all his weight behind another kick at his stomach, knocking the wind right out of him.

"Someone needs to put you Muggles in your place," said Nott fiercely, bringing his foot around toward Will's head. "And I'd prefer it be me!"

In one swift move, Will brought his leg up and landed a savage kick where it counted. Nott doubled over, wheezing, leaving Will free to scramble up and back away, fists ready.

It was then that he happened to glance over at the clearing. The sight of his younger brother lying far too still in a pool of his own blood chilled him to the core.

"_David!" _he shouted hoarsely, and started towards him, but Nott suddenly blocked his way.

"Oh, no you don't!" Nott sneered, the branch swinging with alarming alacrity, coming straight for Will.

He didn't even have time to duck.

* * *

From far away, David heard a voice call his name. He opened his eyes, groggy and confused, then coughed and spat blood onto the ground. Movement caught his eye and he looked up.

What he saw made his heart turn colder than ice.

Will stood at the cliff edge, a stunned look on his face. As David watched in horror, Will's eyes rolled back in his head. For one heart-stopping moment, he was poised against the dangerous backdrop. Then his body arched backwards and he fell. Down…down…down to the rock-pounding waves below, with a long, horrible scream following him.

"_WILL!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Call me horrible. Call me evil, call me twisted, call me whatever you like. I honestly don't care. All I know is that it is SO good to be back! And I've missed you guys, and the story's missed you guys, and I'm sure you've missed us too._

So call me whatever you want. As long as it's in a review! Oh, and one more thought. Chapter fourteen will be entitled "Full Fathom Five"...now can anyone guess why?

Cheers! And happy Friday 13th!


	14. O Captain, My Captain!

_"Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, and ride upon their backs; he trod the water, whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted the surge most swoln that met him; his bold head 'bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd himself with his good arms in lusty stroke to the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt he came alive to land."_

_--- Francisco, Act II, Scene I, _**The Tempest**

* * *

**_THE TEMPEST_**

_**

* * *

**_

--- O Captain, My Captain! ---

**_T_**he surface of the sea tossed and turned, waves crashing with impounding force upon the cliff rocks. Grandfather could hear them roar behind him, and he was certainly grateful he wasn't in the water.

A wave rocked against the yacht, throwing spray everywhere. That, mixing with the fresh, falling rain, succeeded in drenching him to the skin.

_Though seeing as how dry I'm keeping up here, I don't know if it would matter much whether I'm above sea-level or below._

He turned again to the path his sons had taken less than an hour ago, and swore. Just like scolding housewives, all three otters lifted their heads and grumbled at him.

"What?" he snapped, rounding on them. "I'm allowed to call my idiotic excuses for sons whatever I want! Especially when they're not here to defend themselves."

Ceres just snorted at him, then settled her head on Juno's rump and closed her eyes. Muttering under his breath, Grandfather turned away and glared, instead, at the churning water.

_Think they know everything, damned otters…I can curse if I want to…_

The drizzling rain began to fall harder, making it decidedly more difficult to see through the darkness. His fingers fumbled as they reached into his long coat and pulled out his pocket watch.

He cursed again, this time at the numbers, and started pacing the length of the deck.

"Bloody morons…should've been here half an hour ago… '_We won't be gone long'_ my limpid arse…" he grumbled.

He paced some more.

"Prob'ly sitting by the Shylocks' fire drinkin' rum, while I'm here freezing my buttocks off…"

It didn't take long for his enormous strides to cover the whole of the deck, so he turned around and walked back to the stern, pulling out the flask of firewhisky Hector had given him.

"Damn good stuff this is, lad," he said, taking a swig. His face crinkled at the spicy taste, then he put it back in his pocket and continued cursing his sons.

"Bloody wankers…Nothin' more than a hallydoo for their old man, the dolts…"

He stopped at the bow, turned around, and walked back to the stern, stepping over his snoozing gals.

"…I've half a mind to go after 'em…"

Back to the bow again.

"Stupid…sodding…smarmy…snarky _gits!"_

It was just as he was heading back to the stern for the third time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a white flash, and a loud splash came to his ears a moment later. He jerked his head around, eyes searching, but could see nothing through the closing darkness. The only sound was of the waves crashing against the rocks…and a faint shout…

Grandfather shook his head and turned away. He strode to the cockpit, switched on the floodlights, and went back out to look again.

There, bobbing on the waves, was Will's jacket.

Panic filled him. Grandfather didn't even stop to think, his training taking over. With lightning speed, he stripped himself of his coat, hat, and cane, kicking off his Wellies. He grabbed the life saver and threw it out as far as its rope would allow.

"GIRLS!" he roared. "TO ME!"

With the otters not far behind him, he leapt the railing and dove into the sea.

_I'm really getting too old for this, _he thought as waves closed around his head and the water engulfed him.

* * *

David felt numb. A vague silence surrounded him, flowing into his being. There was no sound or feeling…just a white darkness reverberating throughout the versatile abyss of his mind.

All around him the rain fell harder, but he didn't feel it; all he could do was stare through the darkness…

A figure appeared in his line of vision, and a face sneered down at him. "Finally put in your place, _Muggle?"_

A foot connected with his face, and David knew no more.

* * *

Nott chuckled at the man's still form and walked over to the fallen Rosier. Just off the path, Malfoy and Bones were scuffling on the forest floor, leaving the path to the village free to anyone who wished to take it.

"Get up, you oaf," Nott sneered, kicking at the Death Eater's side. "While you were busy sleeping, I took care of the two Muggles. Where's _your_ contribution to the Dark Lord?"

Rosier stirred and groaned. He blinked, then stood up, dark curls falling into his pallid face. "Where's the brat, then?"

"You let her run off with _our _wands! She ran off towards the village. Care to go shut her up before she gets there?"

Evan Rosier looked over at the darkened path, and thoughts of a little girl all alone, waiting for him to find her, pierced his mind.

He grinned. "Gladly."

* * *

The moment he dove into the water, Grandfather felt the familiar rousing of mingled excitement and safety. The water closed off all oxygen, the storm still surged above him, he was delving into the very depths of the sea…and yet, Grandfather felt an enormous sense of peace settle over him.

It was just him and the sea. He was back where he belonged. Everything he had experienced before ---- even the pain from the death of his wife ---- all of that just didn't matter.

He was going to go find his son.

He felt a fast moving current behind him, and three familiar outlines swam past, disappearing into the obscurity before him.

_That's it, girls…swim and show me the way…_

His measured strokes brought him deeper and deeper into the water, but it was so murky and dark Grandfather could barely see a foot in front of him.

_Will…where are you?_

He pushed onward, becoming desperate now. Will had been underwater for more than a minute. If he didn't find him soon —

Grandfather shook his head, not daring to think what would happen. He pushed himself harder, swimming with all of his might against the underwater currents that were pulling and pushing, tugging and shoving.

Deeper and deeper…his eyes searching all around him…he couldn't see anything, he couldn't hear anything…he frantically scanned the water for the smallest sign as to where his son had gone…

There! To his left, he saw Juno swimming towards him. She looped him then went back the way she came. Grandfather followed her, faster than he had ever gone before…he couldn't lose her again, not this time. His breath was beginning to run out…he didn't have much time…

He had done this before…many, many years ago, when the sea was tossing and turning just like tonight…his heart quickened, remembering…

Back when he was captain of the HMS Asteria, when they were en route to Le Havre. He had taken his wife and two boys with him…they were going to have a two-week vacation while the _Asteria _was in dock…

But on their way across the English Channel, the seas got rough. All passengers were ordered down below, but it wasn't long before the notorious captain John Granger got the call: his son had fallen overboard.

Grandfather surged ahead…he wasn't going to make it…his muscles were screaming in protest, but he had to find his son, he had to find Will…

On that day, thirty years ago, he had dived into the sea and saved his son. But Grandfather didn't think that the gods would be so merciful again.

* * *

At Number Sixteen, Prosper Street, all was dark and silent. To any passing neighbour, it might seem as if any occupants inside were asleep. They might stop on the sidewalk and look up at it curiously, from the well-kept lawn fringed with rosebushes, to the whitewashed siding set underneath a green-shingled roof. Then, of course, they would just shrug at it and keep walking, forgetting about it almost immediately.

Because, to any passing neighbour, it would just seem as if this was a quaint little house with nothing abnormal going on in it whatsoever.

But that is where they would be wrong.

Inside of Number Sixteen, Prosper Street a single candle burned, away from the sheltered windows and locked door. Its light shone on two people, very much awake, one involuntarily sitting in a chair, the other standing before her, a smug grin on his face.

It was then that he lowered his hood. Cordelia gasped –- she'd recognized his long, pale face immediately. "It's _you! _You were the one at the market-place, with Hector, the one who --- who----"

The man gave a deep, mocking bow, his black robes sweeping the ground and face lit with a wicked glow. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "Antonin Dolohov, at your most humble service. But of course I know who _you _are…Jane Cordelia Granger, daughter of the late chef, Clement Snowe, mother formerly of France; two sisters, one older and one younger, and both sworn off by their mother which leaves you, Jane Cordelia Granger, as the only inheritor of your mother's fortune. Am I right?"

Cordelia stared at him. Her voice shook. "How did you know all that?"

"Oh, believe me, Cordelia, I have my ways. Just like I know, for example, that your fool of a husband is not here, leaving you very much alone…" He broke off, staring at the mantle, where the photo of a grinning birthday girl sat. "Ah! But how could I forget? Your charming daughter…what did you call her again? Oh yes…_Neenie!"_

She stiffened as he smashed the glass of the frame, pulled the photo out, and pocketed it.

He strolled back over to her, a smug look on his face. "Now, where should we begin, I wonder…_Delia, darling_?"

Before Cordelia could stop herself, she slapped him across his leering face. "Don't you _ever _call me that!" she shrieked.

Dolohov looked at her, a mask of fury in his eyes. He raised his wand and magic ropes sprang out of nowhere, binding Cordelia's arms to the chair. She struggled, but the more she tried, the tighter they got.

"Now," Dolohov said, his voice a deadly calm. "Let's get this straight, shall we? You have something I want."

"Oh, really?" Cordelia said sarcastically, her fear dissipating the moment he used David's pet name for her. "And what might that be, I wonder? It couldn't possibly be _money, _could it?"

Dolohov gave a short laugh that held no mirth in it whatsoever. "You think I want your money? Is that it? No, Cordelia…what I want cannot be given that easily. I have to…draw it out, so to speak. And that's where you come in."

He stood in front of her, daunting amid the lightning flashes outside. The rain drummed harder against the windowpanes and they vibrated with every rumble of thunder.

"What…do you want?" she asked carefully.

He studied her a long time before answering. "I want a memory."

Out of all the things she expected him to answer her with…needless to say, this was not one of them. "A _memory_?"

He smirked at the confusion in her voice. "Of course you wouldn't know what I'm talking about…I didn't expect you to, really. Here, let me put me this in simplified terms for you." He conjured a chair and sat down in front of her. "Throughout a person's life, he experiences things. If he learns anything at all from his experiences, that information is stored in his brain for him to use whenever it is needed. Those, my dear, are what we call _memories._"

"Why would I have a memory that you want?" said Cordelia, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. "And what could possibly be so important that you would ask a dentist, anyway?"

"What the Dark Lord wants, he gets," he said simply.

Cordelia stared at him. "And how, exactly, are you going to proceed in getting that memory?" she asked softly.

Dolohov reached into his cloak and pulled a small, glass vial. At first Cordelia thought there was nothing in it; but then she saw that it was filled to the stopper with a clear liquid.

"With this, of course. Oh, but I know what you're thinking. A single vial holding nothing but water, you say? But my dear, _this_ is Veritaserum. Of course, it wouldn't surprise me if you didn't know what it is…you are only Muggle, after all —"

"I know Latin, you idiot," she snapped. "It means 'truth'."

"Well, well, you do know something. I suppose Muggles aren't entirely useless after all!"

He came towards her and uncorked the bottle. When Cordelia shrank back slightly, he stopped and chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to torture the information out of you or anything. I don't have to, really. A few drops of this and you'll be telling me everything I want to know…and more!"

Cordelia had no way to stop him. He forced her mouth open and poured some down her throat — far more than just a few drops.

Her eyes watered as she swallowed. The burning liquid coursed down her esophagus, making her feel like her very insides were on fire. Everything became blurry. Dolohov kept on talking, but Cordelia couldn't understand what he was saying. She suddenly felt disconnected…like her spirit and her body weren't one any more…

Far away she heard her own voice answering him. Then she was falling away…falling away fast…

* * *

Neenie stumbled along the shadowy path, her brown eyes big and her breath coming out in short gasps. Every so often she kept looking back, but it was too dark for her to see very far.

Lightning illuminated the sky above. A fierce wind was blowing and the branches high above her creaked and groaned in protest. Hermione came to a stop in a small thicket and sat down where she was. Thunder sounded, and she gave a small whimper.

_Mummy! I want my Mummy…_

"Mummy?" she said tentatively. "_Mummy!_ Where are you, Mummy?"

Her voice sounded very small and frightened inside of the very large wood. The trees loomed on every side and voices kept whispering…but no one was there.

She sniffled. She wanted Mummy, but Mummy wasn't coming. She wanted to go home, but she didn't know where home was. She wanted her kitten, she wanted Daddy, she wanted Pan to come and find her, but she was all alone.

"I's a loney!" she whispered and sniffled some more. Her lips puckered, her chin quivered, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Mummy! Mummymummymummy! Where are you, Mummy? MUMMY!" she wailed, and buried her face in her lap.

She remembered only a week ago when there was a storm. She woke up crying and ran in to Mummy and Daddy's bed. Daddy didn't wake up, but Mummy cuddled her and sang her a song.

"_Love, my queen, and may you sleep_

_Though thunder roars and rain clouds weep_

_Cuddle with your mother dear_

_You feel alone, but I'm right here_

_You may be weary, you may be sad,_

_But when you're brave,_

_Your fears behave,_

_And things don't turn out quite so bad_

_So love, my queen, and may you keep_

_Your courage, darling, while you sleep"_

Hermione stopped sniffling, remembering. She started humming to herself as much of Mummy's song as she remembered----which wasn't much. Then those hums turned into words and those words became a song.

She sang of the rain, and the wind, and the trees. She sang of her daddy and how she missed him so very much. She sang of her home and her mummy and her garden. Of the fun day she had, and of her durling little hat perched atop her brown curls. She sang of many things, which no one could ever repeat. Most couldn't even understand her song, for only half the words she spoke were in an intelligible language.

But she understood and that's all that mattered. And it seemed to comfort her as well, for when she finished, she was almost smiling.

It was then that she heard footsteps. At once she clutched the three sticks in her hand, remembering what Pan said.

"_Neenie, do you remember how to play hide-and-seek? I need you to run, Hermione. Run as fast as you can, and hide. Don't let any of these men find you, all right? You have to stay hiding until I come and find you. Do you understand?"_

She peeked out and saw Evan Rosier falter on the path, looking around in the darkness.

They were playing hide-and-seek. He was just a mean old mountain troll, and she was the little queen and if he found her, he'd snatch her up and take her to his lair. But this time, she didn't have Puck to save her.

"Come out, my little pumpkin!" Rosier called. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

At once, Hermione felt herself bristle up at his words. _I's not a punkin! I's a Neenie!_

"I'm not going to hurt you…I just want to take you back to your daddy. Do you want to see Daddy?" Rosier asked, looking all around him for her.

Hermione perked at his words. He knew where Daddy was? She hurriedly stood up and gathered the sticks in her hand. The sticks…

Hermione hugged them tight to her chest and patted them fondly. These were special sticks; they behaved very well. She saw Pan point his stick and say something funny, and the stick did it. She bent down and kissed all three of them soundly. There.

Rosier decided on a different approach.

"Don't be a bad little girl now! If you don't come out now, I'm going to have to punish you…you don't like to be punished, do you?"

She scowled at him, peering through the thin branches of a holly bush. The mean man was walking around the forest floor, coming closer and closer to her hiding spot. He wasn't only looking around at hiding places below him now, though; he was looking up at the trees, trying to see if she had somehow shinnied to the tops of them.

Neenie gave a small, compressed giggle at the thought of that. The smile was wiped clean off her face, though, when Rosier jerked his head down at the sound.

Oops.

Hermione held her breath and watched him cock his head, listening. She drew her head back in and looked down at the sticks in her hand. They felt kind of funny…

She peered back through the branches, but couldn't see Rosier on the path. Perhaps he decided she wasn't there and moved on? Pulling her head back in, Hermione turned around----

"Why, hello there, dearie!" Rosier sneered.

Hermione gave a startled scream and ran until she got to the path, when she got an idea and turned around.

"You's a bad boy! Bad, _bad_ boy!" she yelled, shaking her three new sticks at him to prove her point.

The mean man was blasted ten feet and hit the trunk of a tree. He slumped to the needle-strewn ground, knocked momentarily unconscious for the second time that night. Although this would have caused raised eyebrows and dropped jaws in most societies, the two-year-old girl didn't even flinch. That was just what happened when you were mean to people, she thought.

Rosier stirred and slowly stood up, holding onto his right arm, which was limp in its grasp. He came towards Hermione, his footing uneven. She gave a small squeak and ran----but her legs were small and chubby and she wore a dress, and in almost no time at all, she stumbled and fell. He was on her in an instant and picked her up, mostly by her hair, dodging her flailing fists and savage kicks.

"NO!" she screamed. "Nononononono!"

"Shut up, you selfish brat!" he snarled, holding onto her with his one good arm.

"I want my Mummy! I WANT MY MUMMY!" She started jabbing at his face with the wands, wanting them to hurt him, wanting them to make him put her down. "Bad boy! Lets Neenie go! Lets Neenie go, NOW!"

One of the wands made contact with his eye. He yelled in pain and dropped her. Hermione stopped screaming and looked up at him, her eyes wide. When he could see again, he reached down and tore the wands out of her grasp.

"I'm going to_ murder_ you for that, child," he said, pointing all three wands down at her. A moment later, though, he seemed to have gained control of his anger, and he picked her up again.

Hermione twisted and squirmed, yelling in his ear and pulling his hair, even going so far as to bite his shoulder. But Evan Rosier didn't drop her again; he just walked back to the clearing by the cliffs, a murderous look in his eyes, and the three stolen wands in his hand.

* * *

It was then that Grandfather saw him. Will was floating in the water, his body thin and frail, his skin almost iridescent in the aqueous light. Ceres and Iris flanked him, trying to pull his unconscious body up to the surface.

Grandfather threw himself forward with all his might. He had to get there — he had to reach his son before it was too late, before —

With one last burst of speed, Grandfather covered the distance between him and Will. He grabbed his son around the torso and started swimming upwards, with Iris and Ceres pushing him from behind.

A wave of relief washed over Grandfather, more powerful than the forces that created such a tempest on All Hallow's Eve.

He had his son now…

But deep down, Grandfather also knew that time had run out. If he didn't get Will above water soon, he was going to die…that is, if he wasn't already…

He shoved that thought aside and swam harder. The darkness was closing in on him…he couldn't breathe…his lungs were bursting, his heart was seizing up…

Grandfather kicked and kicked, his one free arm clawing at the water…

At long last, he saw a light above him — the floodlights of _The Olivia. _Juno had already swum to the surface and come back, her lungs full of fresh air again. She slipped her body underneath Will's arm, and Grandfather let go.

He couldn't do it…his limbs were on fire…he was almost there, but his strength was too far spent…

Iris, Ceres, and Juno surged past him, bearing Will. They were going to make it…they were almost there.

But something inside of Grandfather had given up. He had been through so much, and now…the cold grasp of the sea was far too inviting. Its opalescent fingers were closing in around him, holding him back…pulling him downward…his mouth opened and water swirled inside, filling up his nostrils and rushing down his air passage…

He was drowning.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **And so the list of unpleasantries go on. You now know who the ever-mysterious 'Man-in-the-cowboy-hat' is and what he wants from Cordelia. You now know that Will is going to be all right---but now, no one else is. You now know that Cordelia's lullaby to Hermione was coined by yours truly, who also came up with a tune for it while writing. You now know that there are only four chapters to go after this one. And, lastly, you now know that we are one step closer to finding out---as I've said before, and it still hasn't changed---who, exactly, out of all these characters, is going to die before the story's end._

_Now let's get on to reviewing, shall we? _


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